Courage
by O. C. Grigg
Summary: We all love the story of the Phantom of the Opera, but somewhere deep inside we ask, "What could have happened if Christine had not left with Raoul, but attempted to save her Angel of Music's life?" come and read! the story is better than the summary! :P
1. Saving Two Lives

**A/N: Hey Guys! This is my first fanfic (or should I say Phanfic) so it may be terrible... but I would love to hear what you guys think about it. So PLEASE review! The plot of this story is basically what all us Phantom of the Opera fans all have asked ourselves at some point in time, "What would happen if Christine had Chosen to save Erik's life instead of leaving with Raoul." So here it is! :) the first chapter of Courage! **

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Chapter 1

To my amazement, I had been granted the gift of freedom from the man, whose mesmerizing music had taken my soul captive, drowning out all sense of reality, and echoed through my mind begging me never to forget its hypnotic sound. Ever since my childhood, I had grown accustom to his presence as he sang to me in my sleep every night, and grew fond of him. He became my best friend, talking to me about any problem that had been bothering me that day and somehow would always figure out a way to make me feel better. He would sing to me all night, and chase my nightmares away… but the night of _Don Juan's_ first debut, my beautiful friend was suddenly gone, replaced by a true Phantom. I found myself in a dangerous situation, and knew my life was suddenly reaching an end. I would be bound by his devilish schemes forever, unable to fight my new destiny… and just as I surrendered, he let me go. And now, those five simple words he had left me with had sent an unbearable pain through me like a sword had plunged through my chest…

_Go now and leave me..._

Those words bounced off the walls in my head several times, but I quickly ignored them and raced to untie the ropes that bound my beloved Raoul's bleeding hands to the Iron Gate, and listened to the sound of the angry mob's frantic yells echo through the hallways of the phantom's lair. I knew who they were coming for and I panicked, moving my fingers as fast as they would go through the knots of the molded rope.

_Track down this murderer… he must be found…_

That murderer, the man that urged the mob of people to descend down to the cold depths of the opera populare, was the man I had once known as my teacher, my protector… my _angel…_I thought that man to be dead, replaced by the man that everyone else suspected to be the Phantom of the opera or also known as the "Opera Ghost", leaving the man I once knew a mere dream inside my mind.

I finally untangled the knots from Raoul's wrist, tossed the rope in the water, and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck for a quick embrace. When he let me go to rush up the stony steps to pull down the lever which would raise the great Iron Gate, a stream of tears filled in my eyes as I reminded myself of what had just occurred.

Merely moments before, I was faced with cruel fate as the phantom conjured up an agreement: he would spare the Vicomte's life if I would agree to spend the rest of my eternity with him, showering him with my voice that he had taught me to use so many years before. After a few seconds of shock and sadness, I knew what must be done; though it meant never having the ability to see the golden sun rise above the treetops and kiss my eyes good morning, and never being able to live the life I had imagined with my darling Raoul in the house by the sea watching our beautiful children run around the yard Raoul chasing closely behind… I knew his life being spared was more important to me than my freedom would ever be, and though Raoul pleaded for me to run while I had the chance, I tried my best to ignore him and hesitantly walked toward the disfigured man. When I was close enough to feel the phantom's warm breath against my brown curly hair, I lifted my sweaty palms to each side of his cheek and planted a kiss on his lips.

To my surprise, the kiss was not as bad as I had suspected it to be. The presence of his warm lips against mine was something I found I might be able to grow to enjoy. It almost felt as if his lips belonged like this; molded to mine so perfectly. Slowly, afraid of my new feelings that swept through my mind, I released my lips from his, breaking the kiss gently. As I opened my eyes, I saw the confused expression that washed over his suddenly pale face, and though it took me a few seconds, I realized I had just given him his first kiss. No one had ever expressed any sort of love to him the way I had in that moment… not even his own mother.

He stared at me with his emerald green eyes, letting a single tear escape from them, and suddenly like a bullet through the chest did I realize that the man standing in front of me was no longer a phantom, nor a ghost… but an innocent angel; _My_ angel.

In a blink of an eye, my angel had returned to me. I could see it in his eyes. He no longer had the urge to kill nor did he possess the anger that had once taken over his soul. He was now the man that I remembered; the one who would sing to me softly wherever I would go, just so I would know I would never be alone.

Smiling, unable to resist any longer, I rose up on the very tips of my toes and pulled him into another passionate kiss, crushing my tiny lips against his. His reaction was more alert this time, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my body closer to his. I could taste the salty tears that fell between our lips as he cried and knew that I had made him happy.

But soon, too soon, the kiss was over. It was him this time that had pulled away, and when I noticed the expression on his face, I grew worried. Huge tears slowly traveled their way down his flushed cheeks and his brow was pulled together with a look of sadness. _Had I not given him exactly what he had wanted?_ I asked myself, frozen in place.

"Take her, forget me. Forget all of this!" he shouted turning away from me and walking up the stone stairs. His head was hung down and I could hear him faintly choking on his sobs. "Leave me alone! Forget all you've seen!" he continued to shout. Obeying his requests, I quickly made my way through the foggy green water beneath me and reached Raoul. As I looked up to his face, I noticed he shared the same confused expression that I had. Countless thoughts ran through my head at once, but still, one stuck out more than the rest. _I thought I gave him what he wanted. _

"Go now, don't let them find you!" his scream had grown week and innocent, and his breathing coarse. "Take the boat; swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in _hell!"_

At that, I glanced back at the deformed man, and suddenly my heart shattered into a billion pieces. The look on his face would be permanently scarred in my mind; he looked as if he had lost the very will to live, and I couldn't help but blame myself. Each tear that had fallen from his eyes was like an icy stab through my chest, and I knew that each tear had fallen because of me. Though I was willing to give my life away to him for the rest of forever, he knew in his heart it was because he was forcing me and not because I had desired to. And suddenly I wanted nothing more than to explain to him that it was not his face, nor his deceiving me to believe him to be my angel of music… but that the thing that drove me away from loving him was him killing the innocent people who had meant no harm to him or anyone else for that matter. I had tried to explain this to him earlier, but it seemed to go in one ear and out the other, never running across his brain to make some sense out of it.

"Go now and leave me!" were the last words my broken angel was able to shout before disappearing behind the curtain to the bedroom he had specifically made for me many years before.

"Christine," Raoul said, interrupting my thoughts. "Come, we must leave before they find their way down here."

I knew he was right. I could already hear loud footsteps sloshing in the green lake and burning torches coming closer down the long stone hallways and knew it would be seconds before the angry mob of people had reached their destination to destroy the very remains of their so called _Opera Ghost_. A large lump grew in the back of my throat and a rush of guilt hit my body as I looked back at this beautiful realm I was leaving behind. Then a million thoughts hit me all at once, making my watery eyes burn in a fresh round of tears. He was about to lose everything he had ever loved; his music, those beautiful paintings hanging on the wall, his organ… _me_…

_Every beautiful thing that he has created will be ash in a matter of minutes… _I thought. _And it's all because of me…_

Ignoring all my thoughts, I nodded and took Raoul's hand, trying to focus on anything but the outburst that had just occurred. But when I took Raoul's blood stained hand, something sparkly hit my eye. _That's it!_ The voice in my head screamed. _Seeing as he is about to lose his entire world, the least I can do is give him some money. _The beautiful diamond engagement ring Raoul had given me several months before was surly enough money for my angel to sell in exchange of food and shelter.

"Raoul, wait." I said quickly, releasing my hand from his. How was I supposed to tell him this? "I… uh… need to do something before we leave, but I promise I will be back in just a few minutes." I turned and made my way through the foggy lake and up the stone steps, but Raoul shouted back at me taking a couple of steps my way.

"Christine! What are you—"

"Please," I interrupted, looking back at the confused features engraved into his face. "Let me go alone to bid him goodbye…"

I couldn't sustain lying to Raoul; it pained me to the very core. But I couldn't possibly tell him I was giving away my beautiful engagement ring— that I was almost positive he had spent a fortune on— to a man that had tried to murder him a few minutes before. I hoped he would never notice, or if he did that he would not be angry with me, but find in his heart that my angel needed it more than I.

Once I was certain that Raoul was not going to follow me, I turned and made my way through the lair, trying to avoid stepping on music sheets and running into candelabras.

I finally made it to the room and drew in a deep breath. I pulled back the curtain to find my angel slumped in the floor beside the beautiful swan bed sitting across from the music box in the figure of a monkey. Drops of water rolled down his forehead and I could tell if it was sweat or if it was remains from the lake water. Either way, I knew he must be cold from the frigid lair. I, too, was starting to shiver from my soaked dress.

I realized he hadn't noticed me, and was about to step into the candle lit room, but I quickly stopped myself when he began to sing quietly to himself, following the melody of the music box.

_"Masquerade… paper faces on parade… Masquerade." _he paused, allowing a few tears to escape his eyes. "_Hide your face so the world will never find you…"_

The expression on his face was almost too much for me to bear. This poor man devoted his whole life over the past eleven years to do nothing but teach me to use my voice in ways I would have never known without him, his soothing voice stayed by my side whenever I needed my angel with me, he loved me like no other person on this earth could ever love me, and I had caused him so much pain that all he could do now was sit on the cold stone floor and wait for the mob to take his life from him. I now wanted to do nothing more than to run up to my angel, hold him in my arms, and whisper words of comfort in his ears… _No! _I screamed at my weak mind. _Do not fall under his illusions again, you mustn't… _

I don't know what I did to make my presence known, but he slowly lifted his head and gazed far into my eyes. It almost seemed to a spark of hope had rushed through him; I figured he must have thought he would have never seen my face again after he had set me free.

I had my perfect plan running through my head, replaying each step I should take. _Christine, _my conscious spoke, _give him the ring, tell him to run far away, and return to Raoul and leave this place behind. He will be fine. He is a grown man who is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. _I swallowed hard.

I thought I was prepared for any sort of pleading he might have attempted, trying to change my mind. I was prepared for him to drop to his knees and beg for me to come back or maybe try to pull me into his arms and kiss me passionately… but what came to me was something I was not prepared for at all.

He parted his lips and through them spoke soft words. "Christine, I love you…"

He didn't plead, nor drop to his knees, nor did he try in any way to persuade me into staying with him, but simply stared into my eyes and spoke the truth that was deep in his heart.

I refused for the tears that wanted so badly to spill down my cheeks to show themselves in front of him, for I knew it would make things too hard for the both of us. Instead, I controlled them as much as I could and slowly walked towards him, pulling the diamond ring off of my clammy finger. He watched every move I made, but did not change the sad and helpless expression on his face as I took his hand and brought it in both mine, placing the ring in the center of his palm and closed his shaky hand around it. I prayed that he understood what I wanted him to do with my ring. And with that, I turned around to leave him.

I might have made it out with no problem whatsoever—I had done my part, giving him money to survive, and I felt satisfied with what I had done out of the kindness of my heart. If it wasn't for the faint sobs echoing through the small room I was about to leave, I would have left him forever… but the little voice in my head kept whispering words to me, and my mind started fighting against itself. _What are you doing? Go back! Do not leave him like this! He's depressed and lonely and he will not leave this place at his own will! _One side of my mind said. The other argued. _Raoul is waiting on you! Go before the mob finds their way down here. He will be fine; you know you don't love him like he loves you, so quite making this harder on him. Just leave and make it a clean break…_

I was so concentrated within my thoughts that I hadn't noticed I had been standing in the same position staring at the burgundy curtain hanging in front of me for a long while. I closed my teary eyes and took in a deep breath, preparing myself to leave him for good.

_The Phantom of the Opera is there deep down below…_

They were close. I could feel it… one hundred or more people, some with torches others with loaded guns, were descending down to the depths of the opera house to destroy him. Surely he would leave…

I turned my head around to find that he was still sitting on the ground with his deformed face resting against his knees and the ring clutched tightly in his hand, weeping softly to himself. He made no attempt to save his life by leaving or hiding at the least.

"Angel," I whispered, knowing no other name in which to call him. His head shot up quickly, as if I startled him. "You need to leave this place."

He shook his head. "Oh, Christine… it's over."

"_What's _over?"

Before he could answer, the mobs yells suddenly got louder and I could hear the green lake sloshing around their impatient bodies. I knew, somewhere deep down inside my heart, that I couldn't leave this man—what kind of person would I be to do that?

"Come on, we're leaving!" I whispered while taking his hand into mine. His facial expression changed from miserable to confusion in an instant, and he became rather pale. Most likely from the way I jerked his body of the floor and rushed toward the curtain. I don't know what my plan was at the moment, but leading him toward Raoul and the mob probably wasn't the best idea I came up with…

"Wait, Christine," he said stopping in his tracks. He whirled his body around and let my hand go, quickly returning inside the room.

"What are you—"

"If we are trying to escape those fools, the best way would not be to run straight into them, now would it." My face grew hot and I felt like a complete idiot.

"Well, there has to be another way out!" I said stumbling over my words with a panicked voice. He, on the other hand, seemed to be quite calm about the situation, leaning against the swan bed looking down at his feet.

"It's no use," his voice was full of anger. "Go. I set you free…" his body went limp once again, sliding to the floor. Why was he making this harder?

"Keep looking! He's here somewhere!" I heard one of the men yell from behind the curtain. This was my last chance to get him away from this madness. I quickly ran to his side and crouched down beside him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Please, look at me." I asked softly, my voice a whisper. He obeyed my request and lifted his face to meet my gaze. "I'm going to get you out of here one way or another, so don't make me have to drag you by your ankles." I could have sworn I saw a smile creep up on his face but it faded as soon as it came.

I was terribly afraid that he had given up and there was nothing I could do to change his stubborn mind, but when he lifted his body up off the ground I smiled, thanking God that he was listening to me.

He took hold of my hand and led me to the large wooden wardrobe that was placed up against the back wall. I watched as he carefully slid the wardrobe forward, revealing a door hidden behind it. The door seemed to be only four foot tall at the most, but I knew it was our only way out. I could hear footsteps coming closer as many people raced up the stone steps, trying their hardest to hurry to the last room they had yet to invade.

We ducked our heads and slipped through the door quickly as silent as we could, both our hands pulling hard to get the wardrobe back against the wall.

"Hurry!" I whispered frantically, trying not to let anyone but my angel hear me.

When we finally got the wardrobe against the wall, darkness surrounded us completely. I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face, much less my angel. But I knew better than to call out for him, knowing that if I attempted at such an idiotic move that I may be heard from one of the many people lurking through his domain.

Finally after minutes of staring into blackness and feeling claustrophobic, the footsteps slowly faded. They were gone.

"Angel?" I whispered softly. I knew he would hear me.

Instead of a spoken answer, I felt a hand wrap itself around my arm and start to pull me down the black tunnel. I didn't see how anyone would be capable of walking through that sort of darkness and not run into a single wall on their way, but I guess that's the perks of living in the dark basement of the opera house for who knows how long. His eyes must be used to this sort of environment.

Once I saw a shine of light, I knew we were near the end of the tunnel. Everything started to brighten as we half sprinted down the tunnel, and at the end I noticed that it led to the room where each night I would come pray for my father and have an occasional vocal lesson with my angel of music. I smiled at the wonderful memories, and continued to follow him.

We finally reached one of the stain glass windows and unlatched the hook raising it over our heads to reveal the outside world. It was dark, cold, and silent outside. There was not one person outside in the cool air, and I realized why when chills ran through my body as the wind swept underneath my hair. I wanted to turn around and return to the warm shelter of the opera house, but I knew that there was no turning back now.

Running for what seemed like years, our luck seemed to increase. We finally ran up on an abandoned horse outside of one of the taverns and to our advantage, it had already been saddled and ready to ride as we found it. And unladylike, I ignored the proper sidesaddle and hurriedly climbed up on the horse like a man would, my angel climbing up closely behind and wrapping his arms around my waist.

I had never stolen anything in my entire life until that moment, a wave of guilt rippled through my stomach, and I soon became nauseous. But I tried my hardest to put the stolen horse out of my mind, and took the reins in my hand, guiding the fast running horse to the forest; the safest place for us to travel without being noticed and getting caught.

My mind raced through everything that had just occurred, and I realized that I had left Raoul alone down there in the dark cold depths of the opera. My poor Raoul, _How will I ever explain this to him? _I was officially the worst fiancé in the entire world for leaving him like I did, and I could only hope that he would forgive me when I found him again to apologize… _if I ever get the chance to apologize… _

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by my angel as he placed his head softly to my back and started to weep, soaking my dress in many tears. I felt his arms around my waist begin to tremble uncontrollably.

"Are you okay?" I asked

"You… why did… you sa…save me?" he managed to whisper.

"Because you will always be my angel of music. You will always be that man who spent countless hours teaching me how to sing, chasing away my night mares, finding time to set me out a single rose wrapped with a black ribbon after each performance… you were always there for me, angel… and even through all the horrible things you did, I am going to be here for you, too. I just hope you realize that what you did—murdering those innocent people who didn't deserve to die, like Joseph Bouquet and Piangi—was wrong."

He fell silent. I knew my words had probably hurt him, but at this point I didn't care. He needed to know what he had done wrong, if he didn't already know… and I knew I was the only one he would actually listen to.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and I started to feel a bit homesick. The view of the many tall buildings surrounding the opera populaire disappeared behind us as we galloped through the dark chilling forest. I started to shiver from the cold as the wind blew against my soaked dress. I wished more than anything that I could have changed into another dress before disappearing; this dress was soaking wet, and not to mention that it was a wedding dress that my angel had forced me into, and there was no doubt that when we reach wherever we were headed that people would most likely give me strange expressions… they might think that I was some sort of runaway bride, abandoning my glorious wedding and running off with some masked man leaving my poor fiancé at the end of the aisle… _Raoul…_

Tears streamed down my eyes. Oh how I missed Raoul already! I missed his laugh and his strong embrace around my body… _if he was here right now, he would cup my face in his hand and say, "Christine, you need to calm down… everything will be just fine." And then he would press his lips to mine, and kiss me passionately… _his voice was so clear in my head that I could have sworn that he was right beside me, but I soon snapped out of my fantasy.

I suddenly became worried. I didn't have a clue as to where I was headed… what was I thinking? _Good job Christine; you escaped… what was your plan again? Oh right! You don't have one! _I knew we couldn't possible ride on this horse forever… eventually we would run up on some sort of dead end, and then what would we do?

"Angel…" I said sheepishly. "I have no idea on where to go! All of Paris will be searching for us by morning and we need some kind of shelter…"

I waited for some sort of answer for several minutes, slowing the horse down to a trot and squinting with my eyes to attempt at seeing a little better through the darkness.

My angel let out an angered sigh. "I know where we can go."

"Are you sure?" I asked skeptically, sensing the tone in his voice. "We can keep riding until we find a town somew—"

"I'm sure!" he spat. This irritated me immensely.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked—well, more yelled— at him. He sighed, releasing some of his anger.

"I'm sorry, I'm just... irritated. I should have used my brain instead of allowing us to travel this far!"

"Well you need to calm your anger down! You being mad at the whole world is _not _going to help the situation! Now tell me where to go."

Instead of telling me which direction to steer the horse, he jerked the reigns out of my hands and steered the horse himself. I felt new, hot tears run down my cheeks. I hated when my angel lost his temper, especially when he started to yell at me. He was supposed to be my angel, and angels were supposed to be graceful and happy all the time; well in my opinion, anyways. Right then he was acting more like the true Phantom of the Opera; a man I was not fond of…

I stayed silent as we rode through the night. I was thankful he could see so well in the dark, because I could not see four feet in front of my face. The only thing that kept the night from being completely surrounded in darkness was the moon. I found myself staring into its beauty through the whole ride. I would have continued to stare but the sudden stop of the horse made my gaze go from the moon to a small house placed just outside of a small town.

My angel jumped off the horse, not bothering to hold out a hand to help me down, and hurried to the door. I sighed, jumping off the horse and followed close behind.

He knocked at the door a couple of times and waited for the door to open. When no one came, he banged on the door. "Daroga! I know you're in there!"

I nudged his arm with my elbow, trying to get him to acknowledge that he was being extremely rude. He ignored me and continued to bang at the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" a man yelled from inside the house. The door finally opened to reveal a tall middle aged man who seemed to be from a different country… Persia, maybe? His jade colored eyes widened at the sight of us, and he spoke quietly with much confusion.

"…Erik?"

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**A/N: What did ya think? **


	2. Old Acquaintances

**A/N: Hello guys! I am SO sorry about how long this chapter took! OMG life gets in the way sometimes. Anyways, thanks for the reviews and here is the next chapter of Courage ;)**

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Daroga's wide-eyed stare pierced through me with such a look as if he was gawking at some three eyed monster foaming at the mouth; this sent my anger higher, boiling my blood. I hadn't looked upon this coffee skinned Persian man's face in several years, though I did send him a small number of letters in the past, I had expected a warmer welcome than what I was receiving. It was all I could do not to shove my fist into that idiotic look of shock that was covering his entire face while he continued to stay silent, but I clenched my jaw together and entertained my eyes as I watched his face turn different shades of pale and green. This humored me a little, which turned my anger into cruel sarcasm.

"Nice to see you too, Daroga." I hissed. "Did you miss me?"

The man I knew _finally _returned back to earth from whatever imprudent planet he was on, and from the way he rolled his eyes around in his head told me that he was in no mood for irony.

"You survived the night, I see." There was a hint of surprise in his voice, but mostly seriousness. He was well relaxed now with his hands clasped behind his back and breathing like a normal human being again.

"What are you saying? You think I've become weak?" I hissed at the lack of hope he had for me.

"For Allah's sake!" he shouted. "Erik, did you not notice that the entire population of Paris was planning to have you dead tonight? You're a wanted felon!" he kept flinging his hands in the air like a baboon. "All I have heard for the past few months is about this famous 'Opera Ghost' who has been terrorizing the public inside and all around the opera populaire, and quite frankly, I wasn't so sure you could take on an entire mob by yourself."

Did I look like a fool to him? I was well aware of who I was and what I had done and I didn't need a middle age Persian man naming the things off a long list that I had done wrong.

"Tell me something I _don't _know." I growled. "Now am I going to have to stand here and listen to you lecture me, or are you going to let us in?"

I had almost forgotten that Christine was standing at my side until she stepped forward and shyly spoke. "What he means to say," she paused, giving me the, you're-not-being-very-nice glare that I simply ignored. "As you were saying before, we are in a bit of trouble and we need a place to stay for the night…"

That warm feeling inside my heart rose again as I looked upon her flushed cheeks and soaked curls. Even through the worst of situations, she was still the most beautiful woman I had and will ever lay eyes on. The way she spoke was like music filling the air that I breathed in and savored forever. _No! You cannot think like this! _My conscience shouted, and I knew I could not disagree. However, it was near an impossible task for my eyes to look upon Christine's flawless face and not feel the love that had been building up inside of me from the first day I laid eyes on this heavenly angel. Sometimes I would feel as if my heart was going to completely explode in my chest from the love I had for her, which sickened me to the core that I had become so soft. Though there was no question that she was worth it.

"Who is this beautiful young lady you brought with you, Erik?" Nadir said, disturbing my thoughts. I rolled my eyes in disgust as Nadir gently kissed the top of Christine's hand. She had definitely got a finer greeting than I; of course I would never want those slimy lips anywhere within reach of my skin.

"Christine." She shyly replied in that voice that melted my heart.

"Nadir Khan." He stated with a smile. "As you can see, Erik is obviously not good at introductions…"

Both their eyes turned to me at that point, and both faces were wearing a smile. I let out an angry huff while crossing my arms over my chest. He didn't know how close he was to have a Punjab lasso around his scrawny neck, and he most definitely would not have time to raise a hand to the level of his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Khan."

"Please, call me Nadir."

I threw my head back in boredom, wanting this monotonous conversation to come to an end. I was ten seconds away from grabbing Christine's delicate arm and dragging her back to the horse to find some other home to invade.

"Well you two are more than welcome to stay here for the night. I have a guest room and a comfy couch where you can retire." Nadir finally came to his senses and stepped aside to let us in the door. "Please make yourselves at home, and I'll make some tea."

"Took you long enough." I coldly replied, stepping into the doorway. The Persian man had not changed one thing about his home sense the last time I had visited, which had been many, many years ago. He had a few candles lit in the hallway and in the family room, which set a nice golden glow on the white walls that held numerous paintings and an oversized grandfather clock. I sighed and went straight through the family room into a dark room that held his beautiful piano.

I lit a single candle on the side table to let enough light to glow on the ivory keys and closed my eyes, gliding my fingers across the mesmerizing instrument and tried to get my mind off of the tragedy of a night I had just faced. Yet, that subject seemed to be the very thing that stuck on my mind the most. Even music couldn't take it away.

The minute that Christine's soft lips had hit my own, that soft feeling of a first kiss that would forever hold itself to my lips and haunt me every second of my life, I knew that what I was doing was the most selfish thing I had ever done. She didn't deserve to be held captive like a helpless animal and forced to marry this monster. She deserved the life with the rich patron she was so fond of. I was certain he could treat her with more riches than I ever could, and love her as much as she loved him, but I could assure that he would never love her with the same intensity that I love her with. He would never feel the ache that my heart feels every time Christine enters a room, his pulse would never race as fast as mine does through my body as she lifts her voice and sings with such an undying passion, and under no circumstances would he ever feel the way I felt with one simple passionate kiss. I knew he would take Christine for granted, and not savor each and every simple gift she would give him, like a meek embrace to say hello, or meaningless caress to his boyish features, unlike I who would savor each and every feeling she would grace me with and lock them up inside my soul forever. Though I knew I could give her a love far greater than Raoul, I could not find it in my being to be selfish. I was quite aware that I was not the one she chose.

I was ready to give up and let my death arrive with a warm welcome. Setting Christine free was the hardest thing I will ever experience in my life, but it was also the boldest choice I had ever made. She _was _my life… and without her, what was I to live for? There was nothing I enjoyed more than to be her teacher and improve her voice—which now could not be any more beautiful— and write stunning arias that she would sing onstage to millions of people in the crowd who came just to see my angel. Without her, who would I teach? Who would I write for? No one. There was not one person on this cruel earth that could fill the tormenting hole inside my soul but _my_ Christine. On the contrary, she was not _my _Christine any longer, which meant that my life was of little worth, if any at all.

I was prepared to surrender to death as I rested my helpless body on the cold stone floor, but the footsteps I heard that came closer were not footsteps of my death, but the footsteps of a soaked angel in a wedding dress. The first thought that arose in my mind was _why has she come back?_ A spark of hope rose in my chest as she strolled closer to my life-drained form with delicate steps, but my tiny spark of a hope died out when she handed me the exquisite diamond ring I had selfishly placed on her tiny finger, and turned without a single word. I gave as much power that I had left to try and control my watery stinging eyes, but a few self-centered tears dripped down my cheeks. My chest was in pure agony, my head was throbbing and I felt as if I would die and leave this malicious earth before the mob would even have their chance at killing me… but then, as if God had given me a second chance, she saved me. _She, _my world and my life, a woman of such beauty and a heart filled with nothing but pure gold had saved _me, _the selfish monster that expected to receive more than he ever deserved, unaware that by saving me would only increase my ego and transform me into even more of a jerk than what I had been before. She had chosen _me,_ and I wanted nothing more than to let everyone know that I had won! I was the one she _wanted_!

It wasn't until we were on the horse and galloping through the dark forest that I realized what truly had just occurred. She didn't love me, and her act of saving me was only out of pity. She _pitied_ me! I was nothing but the helpless creature that had been wounded and she felt the need to wrap up the poor animal and bring it to safety just so she could abandon me once again. Well, for her information, I did not need to be saved and I most definitely did NOT need to be _pitied. _

My hands banged against the piano in an angered fashion as I played the melody that matched the pain in my soul. Every note that I played held a meaning hidden inside its beautiful sound. Anger… jealousy… hatred… my foot stomped against the golden pedal so that the melody would echo through the room, bouncing off all four walls, and returning to my ears. It's hypnotic sound was mesmerizing me, disintegrating my pain, little by little… then one of my fingers slipped, causing the piano strings to produce a horrible sound that penetrated through my heart. I slammed my fist down on the piano and cursed at myself for making such an idiotic mistake. My hands clenched into fist as my nails dug into the palm of my hand and I tightened my jaw, trying to take control over the tears and emotions that wanted to spill out.

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered to myself while relaxing my body and resting my head in the palms of my hands.

"I was beginning to wonder, myself."

I whirled around to find Christine standing in the doorway wearing a small and innocent smile across her face.

"Go away, Christine…" I growled, turning my face away from her intimidating glare. I yearned to gather her gorgeous figure in my arms and explain to her how my heart desired nothing more than for her to love me. I wanted to kiss her once more; similar to the kiss we had shared in the depths of my home, and express how much I loved her. Oh, I loved her more than anything in this entire wor—No… I couldn't fall under her magic charm… _she only pities you, remember?_

"I brought you some tea." She spoke softly, making it ever so difficult to keep pushing her away and pretending she didn't matter to me. I closed my eyes tight, and kept the word "Pity" close in my mind. "I was hoping you would come join us in the—"

"Can't you see that I want to be alone?" I shouted while turning to see her face filled with sorrow, her eyes brimming with tears and her perfect bottom lip trembling. I had to hold myself down on the bench I was sitting on so I wouldn't lose control and try to wipe away that one helpless tear that traveled down her cheek. _She only pities you…she only pities you… she only pities you…_

"Erik," she choked. "Can we please talk about this? Your acting like—"

"Like what, Christine? Like a monster?" I shouted, standing from the piano stool to walk closer to her. She dropped her head, hiding her tears.

"Erik, that was not what I was going to say—"

"Then what _were_ you going to say? Hmm?" I place my hand under her chin and forced her to look at me, but she didn't speak. She only stared at me with big teary eyes, but that didn't stop my anger. "I never asked for your help, Christine! So why did you feel the need to come back and save me?" I shouted. "I'm not some helpless animal that you think that I am, and I would have been perfectly fine on my own, but you had to come back and ruin EVERYTHING! I don't need you to _pity_ me, Christine! I don't _need _you at all!"

"You don't _need_ me? You seemed like you needed me when you weren't picking your _own_ self up off the ground!"

I slapped her. It wasn't until I heard her whimper of a cry before I realized what I had truly done. That sick feeling rose in the pit of my stomach as I watched her features turn from sorrow to pure venomous hate. It was then that she let loose of whatever control she had within herself and started to sob soaking her rosy red cheeks in countless tears that fell from her bloodshot eyes. She jerked her chin away from my hand and turned on her heels, leaving me standing alone. It was then that the front door slammed shut, rattling every window in the house. Not allowing a second more to pass, I ran out of the room and through the house trying to catch up to her before she was gone for good.

I had, once again, opened my big ugly mouth and yelled out words that were never meant to leave my mind. Everything that I had said had been a complete lie, especially the last sentence. Because the truth was, I _did_ need her. I needed this woman more than I needed oxygen to breathe. She _was _my oxygen; she was the very thing that gave me the will to keep breathing each day, and not end my useless life. And out of my own selfish greed and lack of control, I was becoming breathless.

Breathless and nauseous. I couldn't even _fathom _the fact that I had sunk so low in anger that I struck Christine across the face. Never would I forgive myself for daring to even touch her with anything other than complete delicacy.

I didn't care to look at Daroga as I sprinted past him, for the simple fact that I didn't want to see the expression that I knew was on his face. He, being the nosy nuisance that he is, probably heard the entire blowout between Christine and I, and I was certain that I was in for one of his tedious lectures about being the better person, not letting my anger overcome me, and so on… and like always, I would act as if I was listening to each unimportant word that he spoke, and contemplate on all the ways I could easily kill him, if needed. Though, he would have to push my patients to a very high point for me to harm him. Daroga was the one person I actually respected in some way. He had helped me through a lot, and I owed him some respect for that. Nevertheless, he still had his ways of getting under my skin.

When I finally reached the outside air of the night, Christine was already atop of the black horse ready to ride through the forest. I knew she had no idea where she was at, being that the whole ride down to the Persians house she was glaring at the full moon above us. This worried me, for I knew if she became lost or hurt, it would be my fault completely.

"Christine!" I continued to run towards the horse, hoping I could somehow reach the reigns before she could escape, but as soon as she heard my voice, she kicked the horse's sides and galloped through the black forest.

I sighed deeply and cursed under my breath before following her, listening as closely as I could to the sound of the horse's hooves hitting the soft earth. I only hoped that somewhere she would stop, feeling lost, and I would be able to find her and apologize. I would not be able to live with myself knowing that the last words I had said to her were that I didn't need her. I would surly die of a broken heart.

I should have been more than pleased with Christine saving me; taking me away from the horrible suffering death I would have experienced had she not. I should have dropped to my knees before her, and kissed the hem of her dress, graciously thanking her a thousand times for her magnificent kindness. I shouldn't have been so selfish as to shout in her face for something I should have been grateful for, even if it was out of pity. Though I wanted her love instead of her pity, I should have been appreciative to her showing any kindness at all, especially after the idiotic move I had made after the performance of Don Juan. But no matter how many things I _should_ have done, I had no power to wind back the past and do it over again. No, I would not get a second chance to change this night, no matter how much I wanted to. So I had to make the best of what I did have left; the power of pleading for forgiveness, and praying to God that she would accept.

A half an hour of walking by tall trees underneath the bright moonlight had past, and the sound of the horses hooves had ceased. My hope of finding Christine went from a bright flame to a mere flicker of a glow. Path after path I walked, yelling her name that echoed through the empty forest, and in return came nothing but silence. But I continued to walk alone, with nothing but my own mind to talk to.

It amazed me that not too long ago everything seemed like it was going just exactly as planned for my life. I actually felt like I was beginning to have somewhat of a normal life, my pain was slowly going away, I was able to boss Monsieur Lefevre and get what I wanted out of my opera house… and best of all, I was able to have the privilege of being Christine's angel of music. Though, I was no angel of music at all, it brought her and I closer together. Then those foolish new managers strolled into _my_ opera house, thinking they could ignore the opera ghost. They ruined everything I worked so hard to perfect, destroyed my opera's, refused my demands, and brought that irresponsible Vicomte de Chagny to be our new patron. I despised that boy, for many reasons than just one… and in the blink of an eye, my opera house was burning in flames, and my Christine went from adoring her angel of music, to hating my guts… all in a matter of months.

A sudden noise stopped me in my tracks. It was soft, barely recognizable through the whistling ice cold wind. It was a whimper… Christine…

I began to walk toward the heartbreaking sound, and when it began to grow louder, I started moving faster, finally breaking into a run.

After running for what seemed like hours, and gathering together my pathetic attempt of an apology, something caught my eye. There to my right was a petite figure leaned up against a large oak tree, crying. The stolen horse was nowhere to be found, which worried me.

"Christine…" I sighed. I figured I had startled her, for her head shot up and her eyes were wide with fear. Though, when she realized it was me, she began to sob again, upset at my presence, I presumed. Ignoring whether she was angry with me or not, I hurried to her and crouched down by her side, delicately wiping away her tears with my thumb.

"Angel…" I pushed back a strand of hair away from her face. "…what happened?"

She sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself down a bit. She was breaking my heart in two; seeing her so upset made me sick to my stomach.

"Why—Why would you…you care..?" she managed to cry out.

I sighed. "Christine, we can set aside bickering for later. Now tell me what happened."

"The… there was a snake… it frighte…frightened the horse and…it reared back... and knocked me off…" her sobs grew louder, and countless tears ran down her cheeks. "My leg… hurts Erik…"

I looked down at her leg to notice the skirt of the wedding dress was soaked in blood. My heart stopped and ignoring whether it was inappropriate or not, I immediately pulled the layers up to find her leg already bruised and covered in crimson blood. There was a large, deep cut running down her leg from her thigh to her mid-calf, and without hesitation, I tore off my shirt and quickly wrapped it tightly around as much of the wound as I could.

"When I fell... I landed… on those rocks… over there…" she was pointing to a few large rocks piled on the ground, stained with spots of blood. "I couldn't get up… the pain… I was...lost… and…"

"Shh…" I hushed her. "It alright, Christine, I'm here…" I whispered, cradling her in my arms carefully. She was so close to losing consciousness from all the blood that was draining her body, but with the strength she had left, she wrapped her arms around my neck, allowing me to stand up and carry her back to Nadir. The man had so many medical tools and medicines that he would know exactly what to do.

As soon as I started walking, her head went limp against my chest and her arms fell from around my neck. She felt so lifeless in my arms; the only thing that convinced me she was not dead was the steady rise and fall of her chest.

This was all completely my fault. If I could have just controlled my anger, she wouldn't be in pain. She wouldn't have shed any tears. _Why do I have to be so damn stubborn, and crush this poor angel's spirit once again? How many times must it take for me to realize that the more I hurt her, the further I am pushing her away? I've already ruined the chance to win her love, and after this idiotic mistake, I will be surprised if she will ever look at me without cringing in disgust and hatred._

A silent tear fell down my cheek. _And the worst part is that nothing I can do or say will ever take back all the damage I have caused._

It was a long voyage back to Nadir's house, and at the end, I grew tired. I was frozen by the chilling cold that had surrounded me, and I was almost positive that Christine would probably awake with a fever. By the touch of her body against mine, I was surprised she didn't have hypothermia.

The Persian must have been watching for us through his window, for when I was a few yards away from the house, the door quickly opened. Once he saw her unconscious body and bloodstained dress, he immediately understood what I needed him to do.

"Bring her in and lay her on the guest bed. I will get my supplies." Nadir commanded, rushing down the hall.

I happily obeyed his demands and hurried to the guest room, kicking the door open with my boot. I softly laid my sweet Christine on the burgundy bed and placed a few pillows behind her brown curly head to make her feel a little more comfortable, though she was unconscious and probably wasn't concerned about comfort.

She was beautiful, lying there so helpless; asleep and away from all the troubles of the world, probably dreaming of wonderful things her glorious mind could think of. I only wished that I could get into her mind at that moment, and see what she was dreaming, taking away my world and my pain._ What a selfish thing to wish…_

I slowly reached my hand out toward her porcelain face and caressed her cheek, leaning as close to her as I could possibly get. "Please forgive me, my angel…" I whispered, softly pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I _never_ meant to hurt you." I only wished that she was awake to hear. My eyes drifted down to her perfect lips that were curled slightly, almost a smile. I wondered what she was thinking of that was making her smile… what lucky thought got the privilege of making her happy. I sighed.

Nadir came rushing through the door, carrying a case full of medicines and tools to repair her bloody wound. Once he laid out everything he needed, I placed another light kiss on her forehead, knowing he was likely to push me out of his way when he was ready to work.

When I was a good five feet away from the sweating Persian man, I started to pace from one side of the room, to the other, keeping a close eye on Christine. I couldn't breathe; all my senses were numb, incapable of feeling any emotion besides worry. I wanted to be angry… I wanted to yell at her for being so stupid as to run off through an unknown location, completely oblivious to the slight possibility that she could get herself lost. Of course, then the next emotion I felt underneath the numbness was guilt. She would never be lying on that bed had I not expressed my misery with a sharp tongue and a slap in the face as I did….Misery… yes. That was the next feeling underneath the many layers of emotions I was experiencing…misery… I wanted to drop to my knees and sob. I wanted to scoop my angel up in my arms and apologize a thousand times and beg her forgiveness for my stupidity. But my pride was too large to shed a tear in front of Daroga… so I settled for my safest emotion… numbness…

I tilted my head toward the bed, watched as Nadir worked on Christine. He washed her cut clean, and sewed it up to stop the bleeding. I cringed each time the needle pushed through one side her skin and out the other, but was thankful that he had given her morphine before the operation. Still, it seemed very painful.

Once the wound was cleaned and well sewn up, Daroga motioned me to the family room. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his serious Persian features; he reminded me of a strict hardheaded father preparing to scold his disobedient child—me being the disobedient child he felt the need to reprimand. I didn't want to depart with Christine, but knowing she needed rest; I took one last glance and reluctantly followed him out the door.

"Erik," Daroga started with a sigh. "What has gotten into that stubborn head of yours?"

I growled under my breath, taking a seat on his soft inviting couch. I was beginning to produce a massive head ache from all the many disasters that had happened; I ran my hand through my hair, trying to reduce the pain.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" I murmured.

"You know good and well what I am talking about! That poor girl does not deserve to be spoken to in that fashion…" his voice raised for the slightest of seconds, but decreased as soon as it came. He walked forward and accompanied me on the couch, putting an accommodating hand on my shoulder. "What is bothering you?"

I debated for a few moments on what precisely to say. Daroga had helped me many times with my problems, and succeeded on finding the right answer, and surprisingly hadn't irritated me to no end while helping. Then again, this was a completely different situation. I was in love with a completely unobtainable woman who, in addition, could and would never look at me with the same passion and adoration that she did while looking at…_him._ I feared that Daroga wouldn't be able to help me in this predicament. I don't think anyone could…

Though, I didn't want to, I decided that talking to him, might somehow release some of my tension that had built up high inside of me.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself. For the first time, I was going to be pathetic.

"Daroga, have I ever told you the story of the Angel of Music?" when I asked, he only furrowed his eyebrows. "I suspect that is a 'no'…" I sighed and collapsed my head in my hands. "It was eleven years ago—if I'm not mistaken. During my first years living in the opera house, I found it…_amusing…_ to harass the many people in the opera house that I was not fond of. Anyhow one evening I was on my way to pester a couple of stagehands, when a voice stopped me in my tracks…" I closed my eyes, picturing that very moment in my head as if it were yesterday. "I heard weeping. Faint sobs from a distance… my curiosity got ahold of the best of me and I found myself staring at this child from the shadows of the memorial room—where people would go to morn over those who had passed.

"This child, no older than seven, looked as if she was a porcelain doll with her brown ringlets spiraling against her rosy cheeks. Her arms were trembling as if she was frozen, and the tears endlessly fell from her eyes, one after the other dripping to the stone floor. She was looking up toward the ceiling, with an almost frightened expression on her face.

"This had been the first time in a long time that I had been concerned about someone else's emotional state, but I indeed felt something. I wanted to know what caused her to cry as she did." I looked up at Daroga at this point and noticed he was gravely entranced in my somewhat fairytale of a reality. "And as if she had been reading my mind, she softly whispered, _'father, why did you leave me?'._ I then realized her father had passed away. Knowing me, you would think that the simple statement would have been enough of an explanation for me and I would move on with my life… well, so did I. But I couldn't move… something was holding me to her, not only did I want to _know_ what was bothering her, I wanted to _help_ her.

"Before thinking of what I was about to do, I whispered to her from the darkness, _'Child, why are you weeping so?'_" Daroga kept his focus on my words, almost as if he were fitting the pieces together one by one. I chuckled slightly. "Poor child, nearly scared her out of her skin. Of course she was frightened by hearing my voice, who wouldn't have been? So I half expected her to run away from my voice, screaming for help. But never had I expected her to whisper back to me." I shook my head, remembering how astonished I was over that little girl so long ago. I was silent for a few moments, recalling the lost memory.

"What did she say?" Daroga pressed. I was amused at how _appealed _Daroga actually was over my story. I continued.

"She said only one word. _'Angel'."_ His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Yes I was also very confused myself. When I didn't respond, she spoke again. _'Are you my Angel of Music?' _I hadn't the slightest clue to what she was talking about! But before I could question her, she continued. _'Oh Angel! If that is you, please speak and I promise to listen.' _And before I knew it, she began to sob again. I was beginning to think that this little girl was mad, or if not mad, then she had a very wide imagination. But the pieces soon began to fit together as she unfolded the story to me. _'Father'_ she spoke, _'you promised me you would send me the Angel of Music as soon as you passed through heaven's gates… he was supposed to teach me to sing and to be my guardian… my protector...but it has nearly been a month sense you passed away…and he is not here… I feel so alone, father… and I miss you so much… I miss having you to talk to… I miss your music and your stories…' _I watched her in awe as she wiped a tear from her face. _'Father if it is not too much to ask… please send me this angel, if for no other reason but to be my companion…'"_ I dropped my head in my hands, fighting the rush of emotions that were rising from the past. "You have to remember, Daroga, that I was lonely and had been lonely all my life, and only wished for someone to talk to that wouldn't judge me by my face…" I sighed in disgust with myself. "And what better solution than to be an angel? An unknown 'spirit' that doesn't have a face in which someone has to see…"

When I dared to look at Daroga's eyes, he held about the same amount of repugnance in his features. "So you lied to her." It wasn't a question, but more of a disappointed answer for himself.

"It sounded like a perfectly good idea at the time…" I sighed. "After a few moments of staring at her, I didn't hesitate to speak. _'Dear child, please do not cry…'…_ and as soon as she heard my voice, a smile flashed upon her face. She was so excited that her 'Angel of Music' was finally with her, that she did not stop talking for quite a while." I smiled, remembering the chattering child go on and on about everything she knew and asking me simple questions like what my favorite color was, "Daroga, I felt important, for once in my life. I felt like someone actually… _enjoyed_ being with me. Talking to me… I even remember her asking me such a simple, yet frightening request. _'Oh Angel I want to hear your beautiful voice! Would you sing for me?'…_ That was where our relationship truly started. With a nervous stomach, I sang a lullaby… _her_ lullaby…

"Every night after that, I would talk with her and give her singing lessons… I turned her into a rising star at the opera house. Everyone loved her! _Everyone…"_

That was the moment when Raoul crept his way back to my mind, and I clenched my hands into fists. My anger was coming back, rising through my veins. Daroga must have realized, for he put a hand on my shoulder. That's when I broke down.

"I love her, Daroga! I love her and I lost her to _him! _She was MINE and he stole her from me!" it was over and my control was gone. "I was the one who took care of her! I was the one who taught her and comforted her! And yet _he_ is the one who gets the reward! _He_ is the one who has the privilege to hold her and to kiss her! He does not deserve her love! I deserve her love, Daroga!" I stood to my feet walked to the small mirror hanging on one of his walls. "But because of this damned face she will NEVER LOVE ME!" I plunged my fist through the small mirror, several pieces crashed to the floor. The pain that it brought to my knuckles made my anger worse, causing me to slam my fist once more into the wall where there was now only the mirror frame. "I was her angel! She was supposed to love me!" I continued to pound my fist into the wall until it became numb and bleeding. After I could pound my fist into the wall no longer, I slid to the floor and collapsed my head between my knees. My heart felt like it would explode in my chest, as my anger slowly turned into hysterics. I started maliciously laughing, as I looked back at Daroga. "Daroga, She is ripping my heart out of my chest… crushing it with her tiny, delicate hands…" I demonstrated the mental image with my hands, as if I was ripping a heart. "I cannot take this _torture_ anymore…"

The Persian sighed loudly. "…are you done remodeling my home?"

I found his dry sarcasm completely annoying and inappropriate at that moment. If looks truly could kill, he would be dead in an instant.

Instead of judging me or laughing at my stupidity, he comfortably joined me on the floor. "Erik… do you genuinely love her?"

I looked up to him with eyes of defeat. "Yes…"

"Sometimes love is unfair… but love can never be selfish. You love Christine, I know… I can tell by the way you look at her…but if she does not feel the same, do you know what you have to do?"

I just stared at him, pleaded for an answer I could handle.

"You must let her go."

My heart sank to my stomach. I had already known this was the answer… but I never wanted to hear it. She deserves better than me, even I know that. She also deserves more than that boy, but that was entirely her choice to make.

"I…I need some air." I said, standing to my unsteady feet. I practically ran for the door and threw it open as the cold chill of the night welcomed me. I started to run… I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I needed to get far away from that house. I was at the edge of breaking down, and I needed to be far away from civilization when I did.

Finally after running far enough away to where I couldn't see the house, my legs gave out and I hit the ground. Curling myself into a ball, I let every tear spill from my eyes. I heaved for breath that was caught in my throat, choking me as if I had a rope around my neck. I dug my nails into the soft dirt underneath me with one hand, and clutched my chest with the other as a sudden pain ripped through my body. I stayed like this for hours, letting years of pain and suffering spill out all at once, releasing every emotion that I had buried inside of me.

Once I went numb, I drug my defeated body back to the house. I couldn't feel anything. All my limbs were numb, my thoughts were hazy… my eyes stared straight ahead, focusing on nothing, and yet not seeing any of the world around me.

Once I entered the dark house, I realized Daroga had retired to bed. He obviously had enough faith in me to know that sooner or later I would show up, and haul my pathetic body back to Christine, for I would never be able to leave her in the state she was in.

Though I knew seeing her again was probably not the wisest choice for the night, I still found myself at her door. Silently I turned the door knob, hoping not to disrupt her too much. Though when I entered the room, I was glad I had chosen to come ensure she was alright.

She was lying peacefully on the bed, but her head had fallen off the pillow into an uncomfortable position; if she stayed like that all night, she would surly wake to a sore neck. Not to mention that Daroga had left her above the covers and she was probably frozen.

I quietly walked to the bed and lifted her unconscious body carefully in my arms. After pulling the covers back and fixing the pillows, I gently laid her back on the bed wrapping her body up the best I could in the blankets to make sure she was as comfortable as she could be.

She is so beautiful when she sleeps. She is beautiful when she is awake… honestly; there is never a time when she is _not_ beautiful.

I leaned down close to her, and caressed her rosy cheek with my fingers. Pushing a ringlet of brown hair away from her face, I leaned in toward her ear. "I am so sorry for putting you through so much pain. Believe me when I say that I _never_ meant to hurt you in any way." I sighed into her hair. "I never wanted to hurt you… I love you Christine, please believe me… I always have, and I always will…" I swallowed hard. "…even if you will never find it in your heart to love me, I will never force you to love me again… and I will always make sure that you are protected…"

As I finished, she mumbled something in her sleep. I couldn't recognize the hidden meaning though…

"Do not ever feel alone… no matter where life takes me or you; I will always be here if ever you need me. I wouldn't blame you if you never want to look upon my face again. If that is your wish, I will disappear from your life." She stirred for a moment, and then smiled. My heart started to flutter. "I only ask one thing of you… please promise me that no matter where you go or what you do… somewhere inside, hold the memories we shared together. All the wonderful things we shared… do not remember me as this monster that I am, but as your angel of music… and nothing more… I beg of you, if somewhere inside, you can simply remember the little amount of good in me, I will die a happy man… I love you Christine Daae."

She slightly tilted her head facing me, our lips almost touched. I gasped as she whispered in her sleep. "Angel…"

I moved away from her for just a moment, and retrieved the chair to sit at her side. I closed my eyes and quietly hummed her lullaby as I drifted off to sleep.

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**A/N: Okay, so am I the only one who thinks that Erik is irresistible? Thanks for reading! **


	3. Forgive and Forget

**A/N: Hello My Loves, I actually got this one done pretty early. You should all be proud of me! So I kinda forgot to mention in the first two chapters that the 1st was in Christine's point of view (POV), and the 2nd was in Erik's! I will be telling you from now on so you won't have to guess ;) haha. With that said, here's the third (OMG cant believe I lasted this long) chapter of Courage. enjoy:)**

**~Christine's POV~**

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_Pain._ The first thing I saw when the horse tossed me airborne into the hands of unkind gravity was the grey rocks awaiting my fall; these rocks seemed more like millions of daggers emerging from the ground. With that said, my landing was anything but pleasant.

As my body smashed against the cold stone, I immediately felt the skin of my right leg being torn apart by one of the many sharp edges. The impact my body made against the rocks sent me tumbling through the thick grass and mushy dirt, and finally when I came to a stop, I caught the faint smell of blood.

I pushed my body up into a sitting position almost a little too quickly—finding the world spinning around me— and pulled several layers of skirts until I found my blood soaked pantaloons. Knowing there wasn't a human for miles, and quite frankly not caring, I slowly peeled them away, throwing them to the side. The first glimpse at my leg almost made me sick. There was a deep gash in my leg, starting at my thigh and ending at my calf. There was so much blood flowing out that I couldn't tell how deep it actually ran in my leg, but from the look of it, i decided I didn't want to find out.

Foolishly, I tried to stand to my feet, falling flat on my face in the process. I managed to crawl in the direction of the nearest tree, leaning against its rough, irritating bark. I couldn't get to my feet to walk, and I certainly wouldn't be able to crawl all the way to some sort of shelter. That's when the horrifying thought entered my hazy mind. _I am going to die…_

The more blood I lost, the more I became dizzy. Nothing in the world was tranquil like it should be. Quite the contrary, everything swayed back and forth, making objects distorted and confusing. I found myself digging my nails into the roots of the tree, attempting to make everything stop moving to and fro. _I am going to die…_

Tears started to soak my cheeks, tears that I could not control. I was sobbing so hard that I had to force myself to breathe in between shrieks of pain. Also, the temperature of my body was slowly dropping from blood loss—not to mention the bone chilling wind howling through the air—causing me to wrap my arms around my body, trying to produce some sort of heat. _I am going to die…_

The world around me was slowly fading, turning a dark grey color and hazing my eyesight. That's when I heard the voice of an angel…

"_Christine…"_ the voice spoke my name softly. That angelic voice that whispered through the wind could be no other voice than the voice of my angel… _Oh speak again my sweet, sweet angel! _I longed to hear that intoxicating voice again, for it was slowly bringing me away from the pain.

But suddenly, I heard the light sound of footsteps coming closer to me only to look up finding Erik. I was immediately brought back to reality and quickly remembered why I was here. The pain also came back with a jolt, causing me to lightly whimper.

"Angel…" Erik spoke, pushing back a strand of my hair and placing it behind my ear. If only I had the energy, I would have slapped the disfigured skin off of his face. "…what happened?"

My blood was boiling in anger as I tried to calm myself enough to make some sort of response, but the only thing I could manage through the tears was, "Why—Why would you…you care..?"

He seemed slightly irritated by my cold remark and sighed. "Christine, we can set aside bickering for later. Now tell me what happened."

Giving up with trying to hold my own and be strong against this monster that had the nerve to strike me, I explained everything.

When I finally was able to tell him about my leg, I was breathless and heaving for air. The pain was getting worse, and I was at the edge of letting the darkness consume me as it wanted to.

Without warning, he began to pull up the skirts of my dress as I had done just minutes before. I went red in the face seeing my pantaloons lying in the grass a few feet away, and was feeling very uncomfortable with him seeing my bare legs. But at the moment, I was in too much pain to protest.

My eye lids where slowly dropping, wanting me to surrender to sleep. I felt Erik wrapping some sort of soft cloth tightly around my leg, sending sharp stings through my body, and then I felt myself being lifted off the ground.

"It's alright Christine, I'm here…" was the last thing I heard before falling into darkness.

The room was filled with the sweet aroma of roses. I couldn't help but inhale the beautiful smell and sigh in complete ecstasy. I was standing in the foyer of the most beautiful mansion I had ever laid eyes on, twisting and turning my head, taking in every sight I could capture in my memory. In front of me was a large, golden, spiral staircase, twisting up to the second floor, from which the wonderful sound of music was being produced. I closed my eyes for only a moment and let the sound of this music fill my ears.

When I reopened my eyes, I found a mirror hanging on one of the walls that were surrounded by paintings and curtains of all different colors and fabrics. Slowly, I stepped in front of the mirror, exposing my reflection. The woman staring at me through the mirror was absolutely beautiful; brown spiral curls lying gently on her shoulders, skin that looked like it was made of porcelain, and eyes that were as deep as the sea. Not until the woman in the mirror made the same motions as I, did I realize that this elegant woman was truly my own self, only several years older. I swayed back and forth; amazed at my lovely pink dress with gold trim that was a perfect fit for my body. I almost looked wealthy… beyond _wealthy._

Before I could marvel anymore over how different I looked, someone's tiny arms wrapped around my waist. I looked down and noticed a striking young boy with messy blonde hair was staring up at me with a loving expression. His eyes were such a beautiful light emerald green color, that I found myself staring at his beauty. Those eyes… they seemed so familiar to me, and yet… I couldn't place where I had seen them before. They were unique in every way possible, starting with the rich and bright green color, and ending with the way they looked at me with such adoration for such a young boy. A young stranger, so I thought…

"Mother, pwease come with me! You pwomised you would sing for us tonight!" the tiny boy exclaimed, bouncing up and down… _Mother?_

I opened my mouth, ready to question him, but I couldn't find the words to say. Who had I promised to sing for?

He began to pull me up the winding staircase, so giddy he could hardly contain himself. I gladly followed him, wondering curiously where he was taking me.

Then the thought occurred to me. _It has to be Raoul! _I smiled so wide at this thought that it hurt my cheeks. The idea of Raoul and I having a mansion for a home and this beautiful young boy as our son was all that I had ever wanted.

Once we reached the top of the staircase, my heart started to pound quickly in my chest. I was imagining what would happen when reaching the room my loving Raoul was in. I could see him standing there waiting for me, his arms open for a warm embrace, and my son dancing around the room to that beautiful music that was soaring through the air.

Finally, we turned the corner to reveal the _music room…_

Never in my life had I ever seen a room more magnificent than this… this _masterpiece_! The walls were a wonderful crimson color with gold trimming, there was a soft Persian rug placed on the floor with a couch resting nicely in the corner… and then, there was the piano.

The black color of the piano almost sparkled it was polished so beautifully, and the sound seemed to bounce off of each wall with an electrifying passion. The notes that this astonishing instrument fashioned were unlike anything I had ever heard; the quality in the clarity of the sound was what fascinated me. I couldn't help but gasp at the beautiful sight.

"Father!" my son exclaimed, jumping on the lap of the man who was playing the piano… that man was not Raoul. "Father, I bwought mother up here to sing for us!"

At my son's words, the strange man turned and stood up as my son jumped off of his lap and rushed toward me, pulling me by the hand in the direction of the piano. I was suddenly face to face with the masked man.

"Erik…" I whispered. He brought my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. Erik was my husband? This confusing discovery sent my heart racing… but not for reasons of regret.

"Darling," he smiled, "…even if you will never find it in your heart to love me, I will never force you to love me again…"

I frowned, finding it odd for him to say such a thing. "Erik, I do love you!"

"I wouldn't blame you if you never want to look upon my face again. If that is your wish, I will disappear from your life…" he said again, taking a step back. I looked over and smiled at my son who was dancing around in a circle, not even paying attention to the horrible words Erik was saying. When I turned my attention back to Erik, he was taking more steps back, moving farther and farther away from me. I tried to follow, running towards him, but I seemed to stay in the same place.

"Remember the little amount of good in me…" he whispered in the distance. "I love you Christine Daae."

_No!_ I couldn't let him get away! Why was he trying to leave me? What had I done wrong? We had a beautiful home and an even more gorgeous son… Suddenly the room started to fade, and my son was no longer beside me. I started to cry as I searched and searched for Erik.

"Angel!" I screamed, hoping he would hear me… but the only sound I heard was the echo of my lullaby.

I gasped, forcing my eyes to open. _Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. _

I was aware that it didn't matter how much air I sucked in my lungs, I still was hyperventilating. My body was trembling in fear and my heart was hammering in my chest as if it was filled with a thousand hummingbird wings. I stared at the bizarre print of the ceiling until it made me dizzy, however I did not _dare_ to reclose my eyes…

_Why…_ that was the first question that ran through my mind as I tried to calm my senses. I had always believed that a dream held some sort of memory that was hiding deep inside your mind, or a feeling that was concealed inside your heart. But never had I had a dream like this… this was neither a memory nor a feeling… _so why would I possibly dream this? _

I understood how the child was brought into the dream immediately, for the reason that countless times back at the opera house, I had daydreamed about this child before. I often found myself wondering what my child would look like if ever Raoul and I were married. Time and time again I tried to form our features together in my mind to create this chef-d'oeuvre; Raoul's light blue eyes, bone structure, his height of course, and his smile. And from me, my brown curls. But the child that never seemed to leave my mind was the child I had just dreamt about… beautiful white-blonde messy hair, (of which neither I nor Raoul had), sparkling emerald green eyes, (also not belonging to either of us), and a smile that could melt anyone's heart; one even more fantastic than Raoul's, if that were possible. Why my mind conjured up the face of this child, I hadn't a clue. He had never bothered me when popping up in my dreams, that is, until this dream… where my child belonged to Erik.

Erik… back when he was my Angel of Music, he was my best friend… he was that hypnotic voice that sang to me for my lessons, my entertainment, to take away my loneliness and pain. And in that time, I respected him like anyone else would respect their teacher… but I also loved him. Obviously not in the way that he loved me, I soon found out, but I did cherish him in my heart as one would cherish their father. I would have done anything for my Angel, simply because he would have done anything for me in a heartbeat.

After I found out that, sadly, he was just a man after all, I thought those feelings had changed. I wanted to hate him for deceiving me like he did. What kind of monster was he to lie to me, pretending to be a spirit sent from heaven, knowing that that was a sensitive subject to me, and _knowing _that I would easily fall under his illusions… and still deliberately lie to me, too self-absorbed to take notice of how it might possibly make me feel. And yet, no matter how _much _I wanted to hate him… I still loved him. Instead of a fatherly love, I then loved him like I loved Meg, that one very close companion that you know despite flaws and differences would be there for you.

And at that moment, lying there in the soft fluffy bed staring at the ceiling, I thought of him only as a companion… so why did I dream he was my _husband_?

When I dared to peel my eyes from the ceiling, I found him sitting in an uncomfortable position in a chair he had dragged beside the bed, his elbow placed on the arm of the chair, and his head resting in the palm of his hand. The appearance on his face was full of sorrow, eyebrows pulled together and the corners of his mouth turn down. His cheeks held what looked like stains from thousands of tears trailing down from his eyes to the bottom of his chin. The only thing peaceful about him in that moment was the sound of secure breathing whistling through the air.

I then noticed that the cloth he had wrapped around my wounded leg was his long-sleeved white shirt, seeing as his shirt held blotches of crimson stains on almost the entire garment. He must have slipped it back on at some point in the middle of the night, when it was of no use to me anymore. A twinge of guilt rippled through my body like an earthquake. Sigh. It was for that reason that I could not let him go.

For hours, I stared blankly at him, entertained at the way he slept. Never had I seen him so… _serene_. My normal perspective of him was one word: obsessive. It didn't matter what he was up to, if he was involved, it had to be _perfect._ I sometimes believed that "perfection" was the only word in his vocabulary. But in that moment, he was nothing more than human, sleeping peacefully away from all the troubles of the world.

I often wondered what he _had _actually been through in the past, what had made him the way he was. He had told me that night that even his mother had loathed him; I figured it was because of his deformity, but I couldn't be sure. Honestly, yes, his deformity was disturbing the first time you look upon it, I cannot lie… but people make it up to be so grotesque and frightening that you couldn't bear to look at it without feeling squeamish or running away with terror, however if you could just take a moment to grasp that he was just simply a deformed human, that he was not a demon from hell, it wasn't as bad as the rumors say.

No, it was not his face that repulsed me at all; it was his arrogance that repelled me from wanting anything to do with him. If I could have just made him _realize_ that it wasn't his face that made me leave him that night in the fifth cellar of the opera house, it was his rage! It was the way he reacted with the _little_ things that made him the slightest big angry. If he would take that one flaw away, he would actually be charming. If only he could realize that it doesn't matter what is on the outside…

"Where is she…?" Erik mumbled in his sleep. That immediately brought me out of my thoughts and daydreams. I started listening as he continued to talk in his sleep. "Sasha… I must bury her… and sing her requiem…"

That's when he began to cry. I heard him whimper and cry over and over about a woman named Sasha… "She _will_ have a requiem! SHE WILL!" he started to shout, "I hate you… I HATE YOU!"

I stretched out my hand to wake him, but in the process rolled on my injured leg sending a burning pain throughout my entire body. I honestly tried to hold back the shriek, but I failed dreadfully. "AHH!"

As soon as my cry's reached his ears, his eyes flew open and he was standing at my side. "Christine, What's wrong?" he asked frantically.

I flicked my wrist at him, reassuring that I was alright, just incapable of speaking at the moment. I turned over on my back, scrunching my face at the sheer pain that was still flooding my body, and holding back the curses that I wanted to scream out into the room.

Erik sighed lightly in relief. "Yes," he chuckled "that's a rather impressive gash you have in your leg. I was certain we were going to have to amputate it. What a disadvantage that would have been!" my eyes widened, hoping he wasn't serious. "Settle down Christine, I was only jesting."

I closed my eyes, only to feel the familiar caress of an ice-cold hand placed on my cheek. I heard him sigh, all humor aside. "Forgive me… this is entirely my fault. If I hadn't spoken to you like I did, if I hadn't struck—" he began to sob. "Oh Christine… I am _so _sorry! I don't know what I was thinking! I lost control… I didn't realize what I was doing… Oh! But that's no excuse! You should hate me!" I opened my eyes to notice that he was walking toward the corner of the room, hiding his face in his hands. "You should hate me…"

_Yes, I should hate you… _I thought, bitterly. Then I sighed. _But I don't…_

Instead of replying, I simply stayed silent, watching him stand, silently sobbing. What was I supposed to say? He hurt me, physically _and_ mentally.

"You were right," he said suddenly, turning my attention to his sudden calmness. "I _wasn't _picking myself off the ground, and if it wasn't for you, for what you did… I would be dead right now." Turning around, he started to walk back to me slowly. In the candle light, I could see his wet cheeks and his watery eyes. He was being truly sincere. Still, I stayed silent. "No words can express how thankful I am for you, but I can't simply leave you without any words of gratitude," he paused, looking as if he were trying to find the right words to say. He groaned. "I'm sorry to say I have to use those damn, overused words, being that my creativity is lacking at a very crucial moment." he slightly smiled while bending down on his knees beside me and resting his arms on the bed. "…_Thank you_."

I gazed into his eyes, wishing I could simply turn to the other side and ignore his sweet attempt at an apology… but those _eyes_ were staring back at me almost like a child does when they break something valuable and come begging for forgiveness.

I don't know how long we stayed like this; a few minutes, perhaps? And strangely, it was not awkward… I didn't blush, (which was odd, for I could easily blush at my own reflection), nor did I look away. It was like staring above the sea at the horizon just as the sun is setting… He was mesmerizing me without my knowing, and I found that I could not break the entrancement.

_Have you gone mad? Don't you remember what he has done, Christine? _Everything started coming back to me. The Don Juan performance, the chandelier, Erik dragging me down to the fifth cellar requiring me to choose whether I wanted to be forced to except his hand in marriage, or take Raoul's life for my freedom… irritated that I had saved his life, and that _uncaring _slap across my cheek from the one man that I never thought would ever lay a hand on me.

I suddenly felt the sting of tears in my eyes; I tried to blink them away, only to have them fall down my cheeks. That is when I broke the silence.

"One simple apology is _not_ going to make me forget what you did to me tonight…" I said calmly, though my tears disagree. "Did you honestly think that forcing me to marry you would cause me to fall in love with you? Forcing someone to love you does nothing except push them farther away! Don't you understand that? And just because I do not love you the way that you want me to love you, does not mean that I don't care about you, Erik! And God knows it does not mean I _pity_ you!"

I could see, as he lowered his head to the floor, that he also was fighting the urge to let every single tear spill down his cheeks. "Lying to me is not going to help anyone. Pity is a natural feeling—"

"I'm not lying to you! Erik, we've known one another for eleven years and you honestly think our friendship is based upon nothing but pity? I saved you because you are my friend… my dear friend." I placed my hand under his chin and made him look me in the eyes. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, especially knowing that I had the chance to at least protect your life, if only with a feeble attempt at helping you escape." I sighed. "I thought you, out of all people, would have understood that."

Silence. He stared at me with wide eyes and a creased brow. I had known before I even spoke that he would probably not believe a word that I said, he was too hardheaded and scarred to accept that it was possible for someone to care about him. I did care about him. I knew that from the moment that I couldn't walk out and leave him to the mob. I even dared to say that I love him… but I didn't have that tender desire for him that he had for me. And I honestly hoped that one day he could forget about me, and find a woman who was worth his love and time. I was not _her_…

"I am… so… so _sorry_…" he whispered softly in that angelic voice that I adored. He open and closed his mouth a few times, unable to find the words to say I supposed. So I just waited, patiently. I will never be able to explain how much I wanted to refuse his pleas and never forgive him, return home to Raoul and never forget what he had done to me that night… but I remember that my father always told me that forgiveness frees you, and I knew for a fact that I would never survive with that kind of bitterness in my soul. No… I knew what I had to do. "I promise that I will never so much as lay a single finger on you when I am angry… never again… and _never…_" he swallowed deep and turned a pale shade in the face. I was going to ask him if he were alright, but he continued. "…Never will I force you to… to love me… again… _never_…" the whisper sent chills through my body. "…I am so sorry…" and that's when he stood to his feet and turned to walk away, but before he could leave, I grasped his hand with my own.

"I forgive you…" I spoke softly, hoping that he would trust me. I believe, though it was small, a sad smile of ecstasy spilled across his face for the slightest of seconds. How that was possible, I wasn't sure. But then again, we are talking about _Erik._

He slowly bent down on one knee, and pressed a small, fragile kiss to my hand. I felt hot tears drip upon my skin. _Drip…drip…drip._ At that point, all of my anger and resentment washed away and vanished into oblivion. I felt so relieved, like a large weight had been suddenly lifted off my chest. Without realizing, there was a huge smile painted on my face as I stared at this poor man.

Nothing more was said that night. Erik left the room a few minutes after our forgive and forget, and I was left alone in the dark room to sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I also awoke to a massive headache. I groaned while pressing my hands to my throbbing temple and squinting my eyes at the bright sun radiating through the window next to the bed. It felt as if someone was slowly hollowing out my brain with a knife; a rusty, jagged knife. But that was nothing compared to the pain in my leg.

I carefully pulled myself up, leaning back against the headboard, and carefully removed the covers off my leg to find countless stitches extending down practically my whole leg. I started to experiment with my wounded limb, twisting it and turning it, and found that any way I moved it sent a shock of pain through my body. I groaned for a second time and slid down to lie on my back again, wishing I could go back twenty four hours before and restart the day, hoping I could change the outcome.

A sudden knock at my door made me flinch. I hurriedly fixed the cover back over myself appropriately before speaking. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Nadir carrying a tray with what looked like coffee and a baguette. "Good morning miss Christine. I hope you slept well?"

"Yes." I smiled "Thank you for your kindness, it is much appreciated."

He also smiled in return. "I brought you breakfast." He said, placing the tray lightly in my lap. "I apologize, it is nothing fancy, I'm afraid."

"Fancy is nothing of my concern." I said honestly. As I inhaled the wonderful smell of the warm dough, my stomach made a terribly loud ruckus. I blushed in embarrassment. "Neither my stomachs."

"Well I do hope this suffices." He laughed. "How are you feeling? Any intolerable pain, nausea, or dizziness?"

"Well I have a severe headache," I placed my hand on the location to where the throbbing was coming from, to indicate where the pain was. "And my leg is in much discomfort."

"How much discomfort?" he asked skeptically.

I sighed. "Sheer agony…"

He nodded in understanding. "I figured that much." He sighed, and I could hint that he was about to say something he knew I wasn't going to like hearing. "Well, I have some good news… and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first, my dear?"

"The bad news." I stated in defeat, biting my top lip.

"To cut a long story short, you will probably be staying here for at least two weeks." My heart sank to my stomach. _Raoul…_ "Under great care and observation, you should be able to start walking in seven to eight days, but that is if the healing process is going well. I will make sure the wound is cleaned properly, under your permission, and as long as you get plenty of rest, I can almost guarantee that you will be up and out of this house in no time." He tried to smile, though knowing that the news was going to darken my mood.

I took in a much needed breath. "…and the good news?"

He chuckled slightly at my hopeful question. "Seeing as you won't be on your feet for a while, I will be sure that Erik and I will pamper you like a queen."

It was my turn to chuckle. "Oh! No! You both have lives other than to wait on me hand and foot. I'll be perfectly fine." I reassured with a smile.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the china glass holding my coffee and tipped it up to my lips, savoring the warm liquid that ran down my throat. Closing my eyes, I sighed. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was! I hadn't touch food or a drink since the day before at lunch, and only after Nadir left the room for a moment, it was suddenly noticeable when I practically inhaled the baguette.

After the last bite, I suddenly wished I hadn't had eaten so fast. At that moment it wasn't just my head and leg that was in pain, but now my stomach in addition. I moaned and laid my body back against the pillows behind me, holding my stomach tightly with my hands, and closed my eyes. It was about that time that Nadir re-entered the room.

When he saw the state I was in, he heaved a sigh. "Perhaps I should have told you to take it slow with the food."

"That would have been nice." I grunted.

"Shall I get the chamber pot?"

"No, no." I flicked my wrist clumsily. "I'll be alright in a moment."

When I opened my eyes, I noticed he was holding a basin filled with water in one hand, and a cloth in the other. _And now for the fun part…_

"May I take a look at your leg?" he enquired. I only nodded in reply.

He came forward; pulling up the chair Erik had sat in the night before to the bed, he took a seat. Drawing the covers off the right side of my body, he pulled my skirts up and examined my leg.

From the expression on his face, I found that there might be a slight hope of healing quickly, for he didn't look disappointed in the night's improvement. Dipping the cloth in the basin, he began slowly cleaning my injury.

After what seemed like an eternity of Nadir rubbing and washing out the gash, shooting pain throughout my body, he finished, sitting back in his chair.

"You were very lucky, you know." He indicated. "If Erik hadn't of found you when he did, you might not have survived the night."

_Have I even expressed thanks to him for what he did?_ I asked myself, realizing all that I had cared about the night before was _him_ apologizing to _me_, never even considering thanking him for saving my life! Oh how horrible I felt! He probably thought me to be a horrible person… _yes; I have to thank him…now… _

"Yes… um, where might Erik be exactly?" I asked sheepishly.

"Erik… _disappears_ often." Nadir told me with a worried look plastered on his face. "You definitely will have to get used to that."

Disappointed, I nodded in understanding. "Well, when you do see him… will you let him know that I wish to speak with him?"

"Certainly." And with a smile, he left the room.

About a half an hour later, I was beginning to go mad. I am the kind of person who has to be doing something at all times, or I eventually go haywire. So badly and so often was I tempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed and run home… but I knew I could barely move my leg under the blankets without crying out in pain. _All I want to do is go home…_

I wanted to return to Raoul. _Oh my loving Raoul, I have to wait two weeks before I can see your face again. How will I survive without your embrace? I feel so cold and alone without you…_ I was lying on the bed, wondering what Raoul was doing at that moment in time. Was he worried about me? Was he as restless as I was? Was he thinking of me too? Oh what I would have given to know the answers to those haunting questions… _two weeks, Christine. Just two weeks. _

I pictured Raoul's face when I finally would return. His mouth stretched in a wide smile as he runs up to hold me in a lovers embrace, picking me off the ground and twirling me around and around, so happy that I was alright.

"Oh! Christine, I thought I'd never see you again!" he would say, kissing me on the forehead.

"I am so sorry Raoul! I had to help him… but my job is done, and now I'm here! I'm here with you again. Please forgive me for scaring you so… I promise it was not my intention to frighten you."

"My dear, you have nothing to apologize for! I am just thankful I have you in my arms once more." And then he would wrap his arms around my waist, pull me in close, and passionately kiss my lips. I would gladly return the kiss with complete ecstasy. We would get married in a small white church, me being in a beautiful white dress with lace, Raoul in a handsome suit standing at the end of the isle, smiling wide at me. His family would attend, along with Meg and Madame Giry. We would have the small wedding we always wanted. Raoul had said a couple of weeks before that he had a surprise in mind for the whereabouts of our honeymoon, which excited me greatly, for I knew he would pick somewhere completely romantic and beautiful. Somewhere we could enjoy our first night as husband and wife.

I hadn't noticed I had dozed off until the knock at the door woke me with a start. I had to catch myself from completely falling off of the bed in alarm, but when I realized it was just a knock at the door, I laughed at myself and settled back into a comfortable position before notifying that the person behind the door could enter.

I expected it to be Nadir, ready to clean my wound once again, but to my surprise, it was Erik. He walked into the room with an awkward presence, instantly making myself feel a bit awkward.

"Um… Nadir said you wanted to speak with me." he said, standing as far away from me as he possibly could have gotten, almost as if I had a deathly sickness that he wished not to catch.

"Come here… come sit down, please." I pleaded, patting my hand down on the seat of the chair. He slowly accepted my offer and strolled over to the chair, taking a seat. Not once did he look up directly at me. Instead, his eyes wondered aimlessly around the room. I sighed.

"I realized something today." I said after a long pause.

"Yes?"

"I…I have lost my manners terribly…"

"How so?"

I suddenly wished I would have planned this out a little better than I had, instead of staring at him silently like a fool. _How hard is it to say thank you?_

"I just wanted to say thank you…" I spoke with careful words. His face turned with a confused expression, now gazing into my eyes. "…for saving me." I cleared my throat nervously. "I could have easily died last night, and if it wasn't for you finding me and bringing me back to Nadir, I wouldn't be here right now…" I sighed at how easily I had slipped from being forgiving and courteous, always saying thank you. "…and I am just sorry I didn't say all this sooner. I was being terribly selfish…"

He looked at me as if I were an idiot. "Christine… you just don't understand, do you? I don't deserve any acknowledgments or gratitude for what I've done."

"But you do! Like I said, I wouldn't—"

"Yes, yes you wouldn't be here. I know… neither would I."

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"If I had come to late…" he trailed off from his sentence into a deep thought. I quickly knew what he was insinuating. If I wouldn't have survived, he would have made sure that he hadn't either, knowing that he was the reason I had left in the first place. The thought made me sick.

"Erik," I sighed, suddenly snapping him back to reality. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Of course," he replied, pushing one stray hair back behind my ear. "_anything._"

I had always heard that heartbreaking phrase: "_if you love someone, let them go."_ I had always hoped that I would never come across a time where I had to use it, and in truth, I wasn't actually going to have to _use_ it, per say… I was going to _recommend_ it.

For too long, Erik had put me first over everything; Even himself. There was no question that he loved me. That was evident. Anyone could tell by that entrancing way that he looked at me… he looked at me just like he looked at his music. Lost in love… adoration… he couldn't even comprehend the world around him.

And it wasn't that I was not honored to be loved with such a passion as his! I was truly flattered that I, out of all the women at the opera, was the one he was in love with… but I couldn't let him continue feeling this emotion for the reason that I didn't love him in return, and what kind of monster would I be to chain him to the side while I was loving and admiring Raoul, ignoring his many ways of affection… but still keeping him there at my side, just in case? I wanted to keep him with me. I wanted to hold on to him for my own selfish reasons. But in my heart, I knew I could no longer let him suffer. I wanted him to forget about me, and to find someone that would cherish him and love with the same intensity that I knew he possessed when it came to love. I wanted him to be_ happy._

I tried to place this into perfect words, so I wouldn't make him angry. His cold hand caressed my cheek, sending a chill through my spine. I swallowed hard. "You have to let me go…"

His hand instantly jerked away from my face and back into his lap. I noticed his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Or tears, possibly? Anyhow, he looked at me through those irritated eyes with hurt and sorrow.

"I set you free last night." He said with confusion.

"No, Erik… I—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Nadir knocked at the door. Erik and I both sighed at the same time, annoyed that our conversation was interrupted. Instead of answering, Erik simply stood up and opened to door, mumbling "Dammit Daroga!" before exiting the room.

Nadir stood at the door, cloth and basin in hand. He looked completely confused. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything…" he said awkwardly.

"No." I sighed. "Come in."

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, that was a slightly slow chapter... but every story has to have a slow chaper right? It can't _always_ be action... :/ Hope you guys liked it, and if there are any suggestions for the story or anything you would like to say I would love to hear it! The reviews inCOURAGE me to keep writing for this story... I Love you ALL! :) **

**Your obdient servant,**

**O.C. Grigg... too corny? ;)**


	4. A Better Beginning

**A/N: Oh...MY..._GOODNESS!_ Its been a really long time... I know... and if any of you actually enjoy my story, you're probably mad at me right now... er...**

**Okay so let me just start out by saying that I re-wrote this chapter 5 freakin' times... and finally I am "Okay.." with this one... major writer's block over the summer, and now that school has started back, it may be a while before you hear from me. Just a warning. **

**So yeah, here is the next chapter in Eriks POV and I really hope you like it. :D sorry for the wait... **

* * *

"Listen to me, alright? Don't fall in love, that's a good way of digging your own grave. And the worst part is, is that you don't get to rest in the damn hole until you go through the hell that puts you there."

No answer.

"It would be different, much, much different, if the love in reality is as romantic as it is in books. You know that phrase, 'Happily ever after'? That is a load of crap. Don't listen to it."

Again, no answer.

"Have they not, whoever 'they' are, said that God is love? Well, since God obviously does not exist, clearly that must mean that love is vanished just the same. Don't you agree?"

Silence… I slammed my hands against my face. "Dammit, of course you don't, you're a squirrel."

It was late in the afternoon, and the tiny, brown animal was comfortably sitting beside me, gnawing on his acorn he had retrieved before making his presence known. He was looking up at me with wide eyes; almost as if he understood each and every word I rambled. This is why I preferred animals over Daroga; they didn't feel that calling to analyze and chastise each and every sentence I spoke, and unlike every other human being, animals wouldn't judge me from my devilishly handsome good looks.

"You don't know just how lucky you are, my friend." I said, petting his furry head. "Living life without a care in the world... must be nice."

I had been resting my back against a large pine for hours, letting the chill of the March wind brush against my naked face (which reminded me I was without my mask, once again). It was the coldest March that anyone had ever experienced in over fifty years, 8° to be exact, and that was not including the cold that the wind brought. I appreciate the days in the gypsy camp for training my body to withstand the cold.

It had been three days since we took up residence at Nadir's house, and I hadn't spoken to Christine since the morning after our first stay. Ignoring her was not the easiest task to do, though. She haunted my mind every second of every day (like always); her smile, her eyes, those gorgeous lips… I cursed my memory at that thought. The last thing she had spoken to me was that I had to _let her go_. Unless my memory was failing from insanity (of which we just proved false), I am quite certain I told her she was free of my bounds that one horrible night. I even told her to leave! So, what was I missing? I figured if I just stayed out of sight, she would finally understand I had no control over her any longer.

That did not mean that I failed to check on her from time to time.

One of those days, I spent three hours just watching her sleep, completely oblivious of the time. I watched her twist and turn in different positions, whimpering in her slumber, and waking with a start. She would cry. Racking sobs escaping her lips, tears overflowing down her cheeks; I had to pry myself away from that window before I shattered the glass to get inside. I wanted to comfort her on those nights that she was haunted by nightmares. I knew how it felt to be frightened and alone, darkness intensifying the fright. I never wanted her to go through that suffering, but I convinced myself that if she found me, a monster, holding her in an embrace, it would frighten her far more than the nightmare itself.

If anything, _I_ was the one bound to _her_ chains. She was in my thoughts, my dreams; everything I saw reminded me of her in some way or another. The worst memory of all was that I could still taste her kiss… the flavor of her lips against mine were still strong on my tongue whenever I licked my lips. I believe I was possessed with her in those days at Daroga's house more than I had ever been beforehand. She had me wrapped around her tiny finger.

Ignoring Christine was very hard, but I have to admit that ignoring Daroga was ten times more difficult. He _was _capable of using his legs and, more often than not, tried to track me down at least twice a day. Of course, I was able to hide away in places that he would never find me, but his incisive yelling was quite impossible to get out of my head. He tried to tell me that I was being insane and that she was bored out of her wits, and would not give up until I threatened his life. He _was_, however,smart enough to know that that was his warning to leave me alone; though it didn't last very long.

"Erik!" I groaned as my little furry friend scurried away. "Erik, I know you're out there! Please stop ignoring me for one minute so I can talk to you!"

I knew if I didn't let the man speak, that this could go on for the rest of the two weeks. And I did not want that sort of torment.

I jumped out in front of him from seemingly nowhere, just to humor myself. He yelped out a loud squeamish cry very much to my satisfaction and held a hand over his heart. "You've got one minute Daroga. Go."

He opened his mouth to protest at the short amount of time he had, but quickly shut it, knowing that he should be thankful I gave him time at all. "Erik, she is bored to tears in that little room all by herself, and I—"

"Then why in the world are you out here pestering me? Go! Entertain her with your Persian charm." I said, flicking my wrist at him.

"I told you to let go of your feelings for her, not ignore her! She really misses you, Erik." This slightly caught my attention. "She has asked for you several times, wondering where you are, what you're doing. I think it wouldn't be such a bad idea if you came to visit her…"

"And I don't think it would be such a bad idea for me to stay away from her forever. Surly it would be better for the both of us! She will heal, go home to marry _him_, and forget I ever exist, and the sooner I get away from her, the better chance I have of 'letting go of my feelings' as you like to say."

"Erik, please—"

"Oops, I'm sorry Daroga, but your time is up. Goodbye." I turned around to leave.

"I had ten seconds left, you fool." He yelled back before I could leave.

"And now you have none. Again, I bid you farewell."

"ERIK!" he sounded desperate. "She is driving me INSANE with her constant talk of this and that! She wants my company every second of the day, and when I do come to her room she NEVER wants me to leave! The woman is driving me up the wall Erik, and if you don't come soon, she WILL be the death of me!"

I turned around to see his jade eyes bulging out of his head and his hands knotted in his hair. That's when I bent double laughing.

"It is not funny, you stupid, _stupid_ man. I honestly don't understand how you handle the girl."

I have to admit that my eyes did become a bit watery from the constant laughing that I could not control. I had always known that Daroga was a weak, helpless man, but for him to be so bothered by an eighteen year old girl, well, that was probably one of the most humorous things I had heard in a long, long time.

The Persian groaned. After spitting the word "Fine" he turned to leave.

Still chuckling, I ran to his side and put an arm around his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off but my grip was too strong for him. "I am sorry, my friend, that this woman is such an inconvenience for you. I shall pay her a visit; God forbid you die from insanity." I let out another snicker. He snarled.

He finally, somehow, managed to escape from my arm, muttering very many choice words under his breath; _such a bizarre little Persian man_. I continued walking behind him towards the quaint little house, the feeling of glee quickly dissolving into nausea. The stupid man's twisted scheme had worked for me to agree to a visit with Christine… and I swore if he had said she had been "asking for me" and "wondering what I was doing" just to get himself out of his own personal hell, I would arrange a time to rip out his vocal cords with my bare hand.

Of course, I would have never admitted it that day, but the Persian had nothing to do with my visit with Christine; he could have pulled all the hairs off his head for all I cared, but in the end, he was just a nice cover up for the excuse that I wanted to see her.

Walking inside the house, Nadir grabbed a pouch full of franks and said he was going to the market, muttering something about running low on food, but I wasn't paying attention. When Daroga was gone, I took in a deep breath and walked to the guest room's door.

For minutes I just stared at the dark-brown stained wood unable to move. My hand rose a few times towards the door to knock, but quickly dropped down at my side again. The longer I stood there, the faster my heart raced.

_Remember, you are not here for your own enjoyment; you are here to save her from her boredom, _I told myself._ You, the __**Angel of Doom**__, do not need love. Love is for people who are too afraid to be alone. You've been alone your whole life, Erik, so hold your head high and no matter how beautiful she looks, and no matter how much you would like to hold her, to love her, to kiss her, for her to love and to kiss you… No! Dammit Erik! _

"Ugh!" I slammed my head against the door in irritation, doing no help but probably damaging a few useless brain cells.

"Um… hello?" I heard a beautiful angel say. "Is everything alright out there?"

_You can't turn back now._

When I opened the door, my heart melted to the floor and seeped through the cracks. Christine sat propped up in the bed with her back against the headboard, twirling the bed sheet between her fingers. When she looked up at me, a wide smile appeared on her face and her eyes immediately lit up as she said "Hello you."

Well, so much for pushing aside my feelings. Her hair was tousled; curls flying every way that they could possibly go and her face a healthy pink color. _Absolutely beautiful_, I thought.

I swallowed the large lump that appeared in my throat. "I, uh… heard you were bored out of you wits…"

She moaned and threw her head back against the wall behind her. "YES! Did you know that there is only so many patterns that you can count on this ceiling? I've counted five times!"

I chuckled, walking over to the chair beside the bed. _You can do this…_

When I took a seat, I noticed she was still in that awful wedding dress, once white and now blood and mud stained. Most of the decorative beads had either fallen off completely, or were just practically dangling off by a single thread and the fabric was ripped in many places. That stupid man probably hadn't even offered her a nice bathing. I would definitely require a talk with him when he arrived home, and also invest in a few other dresses she could wear.

"Oh…" She unexpectedly murmured, blushing under my intensive gaze. She sat up a little straighter turned her face away to stare at the wall beside her. "I'm sorry. I probably look dreadfully horrid… I felt it wasn't necessary to ask if I could bathe for the fact that I wouldn't be able to bathe..." she paused, clearing her throat nervously, "…without help… I would be far too embarrassed to let one of you help me. And besides, it would be extremely inappropriate."

I very much wished I could have had my mask at the moment she said the last sentence. My entire face, neck, and ears turned this awful shade of red as I, for a split second, was forced to see that image. I was glad her face was still looking toward the wall.

"Anyhow, I am not going to be selfish." She continued. "You both have given me a warm place to stay and food to eat. I could never ask for anything more than that."

I sighed, finally able to put the image past my mind. "You can ask for anything your heart desires, Christine. You are the least selfish person I have ever met." I smiled. "And you do not look 'dreadfully horrid' either."

She sighed, shaking her head in disagreement. If only I could have told her how beautiful she really was at that moment.

_I can't hide my feelings… so what? As long as I never, ever, EVER tried to do anything about them, like I swore to do… then I can still enjoy her, can I not? As long as I realize she will be nothing but my friend… friends can tell each other they are beautiful without hidden meaning, correct? Friends are truthful and kind. Yes… I can be her friend… and nothing more._

Her face turned sour. "Erik, I am so sorry…"

"Excuse me?"

"…I feel that I am such an _inconvenience_ right now to you and to Nadir." She explained, pushing the covers off her lap and lightly caressed the black and blue injury with her finger. I shuddered as I looked upon her bare leg; though the injury would be nothing for me, she, a fragile being as she is, was very strong. "I just wish that this hadn't happened. I could have been on my way home and you wouldn't have to stay here. You could get on with your life and Nadir wouldn't have to cook for three people all the time… oh, this is entirely my fault."

"Ugh, Christine…" I grumbled, getting up from my chair and towering over the gloomy woman. She looked up at me with an expression that hurt me profoundly; looking as if I were going to strike her, which wouldn't have been the first time, I rudely reminded myself. Instead, I bent down to her level so I could look into her eyes, and held her cheeks between my palms. "Have you noticed how many insignificant times we have apologized to each other? And about things that we cannot even change!" she sadly laughed in agreement. "I for one am _exhausted _with this routine and would much rather enjoy the next eleven days without any arguments between us, wouldn't you?" she nodded, a few tears escaping that lovely path down her flushed cheeks. I smiled, carefully wiping them away with my finger. _Learn to be her friend… _"Let's just completely forget about everything in the past, if only for these last few days together and just have fun. We can annoy the hell out of Daroga, trust me, that's one very enjoyable thing to do. We can make music together or we can simply talk. We don't even have to talk!" she smiled as I played with one of her brown curls. "I know that you are miserable here, but if you will just give me the chance, I will be sure that these will be the days you will never forget." That last sentence I said playfully, earning another giggle.

"Alright Erik, I trust you." She sniffled. "What is first on the list of Fun-Things-To-Do-With-Erik?"

I grinned, knowing that someway I would do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of her stay. She would not regret these days staying with me, I wouldn't allow it. For once, I was learning to think of someone besides myself.

About an hour had passed. I was chuckling under my breath, watching my angel's face twist up in an agitated expression. She would look up at me, study my features, and back down at her lap to continue her work. I have to admit I quite enjoyed watching her struggle; I had it set in my mind that she was perfect at everything. Dare I say that the sour face made her look even more beautiful?

"Ugh!" she groaned, dropping the pencil in her lap. "I told you I wouldn't be able to do this…"

I tried to lean over and take a glance at the final project, but it was quickly jerked away and held close to her chest with her tiny hands. "No! You cannot look at this, so don't even try prying it away from me!"

I sighed, turning my head sideways in the manner of a small pup and pouted my lip.

"I'm serious Erik, it's horrible and that's all you need to know."

"Oh, Christine, you're being overly dramatic. I'm not going to hang you for bad artwork!" She gave me that look, and although it was a joke, I realized it was probably too soon to jest about such things, for her sake.

It took her a few moments, but she finally released the now crinkled paper away from her chest and handed it to me with a shaky grip. I quietly thanked her and turned the article around to take a look at what she had created.

My eyes were met with probably the most hideous piece of artwork ever created by man. My poor, poor angel obviously had no artistic bone in her body when it came to sketching, and from what I could tell from this piece, she would never have the ability to learn. She had insisted that if I were going to make her sketch something that it obviously _had_ to be me that she used for inspiration. However, I did have one condition that she could not draw my deformity, so she drew the white half mask from memory. I didn't, on the other hand, know that it would have ever been this bad.

My body, first of all, was practically nothing but a stick, my head was probably ten sizes too big for my stick body, my eyes were almost bigger than my head, and the hairs on my head were only lines draping from one side of my bulging head to the other. The best thing about the disaster in my hands was its title: _My Angel of Music._ And yet, with all these imperfections screaming at me to fix, I knew I would never be able to toss it aside as trash, and I figured from that day forward, it would never leave my pocket.

However, I did find some time to have a little fun with her before placing it in my pocket.

"Christine…" I gasp, dramatically. "…this is BEAUTIFUL! You are quite the artist, aren't you?"

She made some incomprehensible noise in the back of her throat and threw a pillow against her face to hide the ginormous blush that hit so quickly. "I told you I wouldn't be able to do this, Erik! And you forced me!"

"And I'm glad I did! Look at it, so detailed!" I gasped again. "I adore the way my eyes bulge out of my head like this!"

"Erik, you're being—"

"And look at this body!" I held the paper a little closer to my face and squinted my eyes, theatrically concentrating. "Is this your nice way of telling me I should gain more weight?"

She released the pillow from her face and scowled at me. "Well you _are_ rather boney."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. She, on the other hand, saw that none of this was funny. "You know, that does hurt my feelings a bit."

"But you concern not of my feelings, so why should I concern yours?" she so boldly stated, sticking her tongue out in a very unladylike manner.

Still chuckling, I said, "On the contrary, I _do _care about your feelings. So therefore, how are you feeling, Mademoiselle?"

Dramatically raising the back of her hand to her forehead, she said, "Oh, Monsieur, not too well I am afraid!"

"And what seems to be the problem, Mademoiselle?"

"It is my angel, Monsieur! He despises my artwork, and I made it especially for him!"

I stood, (very dramatically, might I add) with my mouth gaping open. "How dare he! Please, Mademoiselle, is there anything this poor angel can do to gain your forgiveness?"

She paused for a moment, thinking it through carefully. "Well there is _one_ thing he may do. You must know, Monsieur, that he is the Angel of Music, and there is only one thing that _that_ sort of angel can do to gain _my _forgiveness…"

I bent down to be face to face with her, and whispered "what is that?"

She leaned in toward my ear, making me feel as if this playful conversation had went too far out of my comfort. I couldn't breathe with her lips that close to my skin and these constant chills were electrocuting my body. "To sing to me, of course." She giggled.

I stood up a little too quickly, making my head spin after such events. "As you wish, Mademoiselle." I bowed. "If you will accompany me to the piano, I shall obey."

Her face changed from that glow of excitement to a dull pain. She sighed heavily and rested back against her pillow. "Nadir said I mustn't walk until my leg is healed."

"He's out buying foods for the evening and probably won't be back for some time. He will never know…" I hoped she didn't think I was being too forward. "…and besides, who said anything about walking?"

On the contrary, she seemed all too eager to be out of that bed, even if it meant being in the arms of a monster for a few moments. Her smile was all the confirmation I needed, and I was careful with slipping my arms under her delicate body, being certain I was not touching any part of her injury. She wrapped one arm around the back of my neck and the other was nicely resting against my chest. She was well relaxed in my arms, which made me feel quite trusted.

We traveled down the hall and into the piano room, quietly closing the door behind us. The room was nearly pitch black, probably making it hard for her to see. I, on the other hand, was having no trouble in finding my way through the darkness.

I lit a candle with her still in my arms, took a pillow off a small chair, and resting it on the piano bench before placing her down, making sure she was as comfortable as she could possibly be. Once she was settled, I took a seat beside her, placing my fingers on the smooth ivory keys.

I smiled and began to play as she wished.

That hypnotic sound of sweet, sweet music filled my ears, making me feel as if the ceiling and floor had disappeared. Even Christine had escaped the illusive world I was in. My body felt weightless, and I thought of nothing. I thought of nothing in my past, nor did I think of my doomed future, but rather the moment I was living right then… where all my complications were melted away by one single melody that erased all thoughts of life and its cruel judgment. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, inhaling the mesmerizing music into my lungs, and releasing my passionate voice when exhaling, feeling every nerve in my body shut down and become disoriented…numb. I felt safe.

I would never tell anyone my secret. It was far too cowardly and embarrassing to tell. For my whole life, my world was a hell, and all the people in it seemed to make it a thousand times worse. They couldn't possibly care less of what my feelings were, how _I_ wanted things to be, what _I _wanted to do in life. My mother, my own MOTHER, was the worst of all these people. She taught me how to hate. How to loath something so much that you completely shut off your feelings to that thing. That _thing._ That is what I was to her. I was nothing more than a piece of artwork she had ordered from somewhere far away, kind of like a special gift, special just for her enjoyment and only her enjoyment. But when she received the package, it had been destroyed by the careless hands of its creator. It was nothing more than a worthless piece of junk that was stuck with her for a long, long while. She hated me. I hated her.

After a few short years of living with her hatred, I learned my way out…music. I always felt this same _escape _that came with music that filled my heart with, can you believe it, joy! Happiness! It was the one and only thing that would never get up and walk away from me forever. It would never fight with me, or spit in my face that I was the ugliest creature that walked the earth, normal everyday things such as that. Music would always be my secret escape from life. And no one else on this earth would understand…

The song I had begun with was soft and delicate, like Christine. It had simple but meaningful lyrics; a very happy song, I guess you could say that. But soon, that song vanished into the thin air and was replaced by just my music. My hopeless soul changed the song from the beautiful melody Christine was probably enjoying, into a dark, depressed cry of the piano feeling and sharing my own hurt and sorrows. My hands slammed against the keys passionately, with an urgency, wanting to let go all of my feelings built up inside of me so high above the clouds, I was sure it never ended. My eyes were pressed closed as tight as they could possibly go; I didn't want to see the world. I wanted to stay here forever in this domain of compassion. I could feel wetness rolling down my cheeks. I wasn't sure if it was tears. I didn't care a bit.

Something felt out of place. Something didn't belong in my world… it was intruding.

I felt something upon my cheek, on top of the wetness that had rolled down countless times. It was caressing my face with its light touch, scaring me. I was frightened… I thought nothing could get in the way of my music.

The music abruptly stopped and my hand was holding on to a fragile wrist.

Christine's mouth was gaped wide open, tears also escaping her eyes.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" she stuttered. "I shouldn't have… you were crying… I only wanted to wipe them a…away…"

I immediately brought her wrist up to my eyes in both my hands and inspected it to make sure I hadn't caused any damage. Thankfully, I had been gentle enough that she was alright. "I am the one that should be apologizing, not you." I sighed. Knowing I was going too far, but not caring, I kissed her wrist. "You have to remember that when I am lost in my music… I am not safe. You should never touch me when I'm like this… because when I'm with my music, I am helpless… vulnerable… I have no control and the simplest touch can set me off..."

She nodded her head. "Erik? The second melody you played…" a sob caught in her throat. "…it was so _sad_...what song—"

"It's not a song, Christine… it…um…"

"…it's how you feel…" I went red-faced. She knew exactly what I had meant.

"And it was so heartfelt and wonderful!" an anonymous voice said at the door frame. "I literally have chills, Erik."

I turned to scowl at the Persian intruder that had a very serious and amusing look on his face. "Daroga… just _once_ could you NOT interrupt one of our conversations?" I muttered. "I thought you went to the market?"

"I did. The town is not that far away, Erik." He crossed his arms. "And I did leave three hours ago."

_Three hours? _I thought. _Had it really been that long?_

"And you, Mademoiselle. I thought I clearly warned that you should not be up and about until that leg was healed."

I turned to Christine to see her hand over her mouth, not knowing what to say. "Daroga, she didn't have to use a muscle. Do you honestly think I would let her harm herself like that?"

He didn't speak for a moment, eyes bouncing from me, to Christine, then to me, and back to Christine. He let out a very loud exasperated sigh. "I better not catch you doing this again."

He stormed out of the room.

When I looked back at Christine, and saw the sparkle of a star in her eyes, we both busted our sides laughing. He was being such a boring fart.

I could have stayed in that room with her all night, fully disobeying him, but Christine and her pure, gentle, sweet, kind soul said that we should return to her room for further activities, so not to irritate him anymore than necessary. "After all," she said, "this _is_ his house. He very well could kick us out, you know."

So we made our way back to her guest room and I sat her comfortably on the bed. I left her only for a moment and fetched her dinner that Nadir had nicely cooked for us. When I made it back, Christine was staring sternly at the piece of artwork I had forgotten to put in my pocket. She looked up at me when she heard the door close, and placed the parchment down on the table beside her.

"I am so terrible at art…" she sighed.

I smiled. "I could teach you, if you'd like?"

Her head shot up, a look of shock appeared on her face. "You would really do that? I mean, you are an amazing artist. I saw the many drawings you had down in your home at the underground lake…" she blushed, remembering the many paintings and sketches of her, and only her. "…and if your half as good a teacher with drawing as you are with singing, I might possibly have a slight hope in at least drawing hair right!"

I laughed. "And the eyes." I opened my eyes wide, mocking the picture. "You can't forget my bulging eyes…"

She giggled, wrinkling her nose. My heart skipped a beat.

I knew there probably wasn't a hope in teaching her art, for the girl really did not have a chance in the world even with my teaching! But I did miss being her teacher very much. It wouldn't hurt.

I handed her the bowl of steaming stoup, and took a seat in the chair beside the bed. "Be careful, Nadir wasn't very careful with the temperature."

Her brow furrowed. "You're not eating?"

I shook my head.

And she didn't argue.

We sat up for another half an hour, just talking. I felt like the luckiest man on earth, even though I couldn't hold her in my arms and call her my wife. She was willingly talking to me, willingly looking at my deformed face without a look of disgust, and not until her eyes were becoming too heavy for her did she finally tell me it was time for her to sleep.

I helped her get under the many layers of blankets without further hurt to her injury. I tucked her in, blew out the candle, and bid her goodnight.

Before I walked out the door, she whispered to me. "Thank you for the lovely day, Erik."

I smiled.

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**A/N: :D Yay... Okay so I wanna know who out there is Raoul phans and who out there is Erik phans! So please post and let me know, cause I wanna know how many I am going to dissapoint in future chapters.. ;) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews are the only things that keep me going with this story, cause I don't want to keep posting chapters if no one likes it :'( Any ideas for the story? im all ears. **

**Thanks for Reading! :) **


	5. Gaining Strength

**A/N: Surprise surprise... So I honestly didn't think that I'd get this chapter up sooooo soon! AHH! :D so I Hope you enjoy! OH, and thank you SOOO much for the reviews, I'm am so happy you guys like it! :D**

**Christine's POV**

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_Breathe, Christine… everything is alright… _

I took a breath in, but was choked by another cry that was caught in my throat.

_He's in a better place… you know that…_

I bit my lip and forced my eyes to stay open, though my vision was blurry with tears.

_He is still here with you… probably watching you at this very moment… he wouldn't want you to cry…_

Though it had been a decade since my father's death, those horrible, rotten dreams still plagued my mind. I couldn't go a day without missing him and his "possum smile" as I would call it, only as a little girl. He was my father, after all, and my dearest friend.

Given that I never had a mother, due to her sudden death at childbirth, I had learned to work hard and be strong, like my father. I was definitely not a prim and proper little girl, as one should be at a young age. He taught me to ride a horse, how to work in a garden and not be afraid to get my hands dirty. I also gained my cooking skills from him; he had told me once that my mother was perfect at everything except for in the kitchen, and that every roll she put in the oven would come out black as coal.

However, I did inherit my mother's beauty, so he said. Every morning he said that I woke up looking like her more and more and I would only blush, not feeling worthy of being as beautiful as she.

He was the greatest violinist in the world through my five year old eyes. There was not a song that he couldn't play at my request, and there was not a time that I did not stand up and dance to his music. I told myself that I would never leave his side, for as long as I lived. That quickly changed the year he became ill.

The sickness he had was foreign to all the doctors in our home town. None could figure out what was plaguing his body, therefore, none could help. I hated those doctors; I hated them with all my being. _They didn't try hard enough_, I would think.

I learned to grow up from then on.

I would cook for him, clean the house, wash his clothes, and change the bed sheets. At first, his symptoms seemed as nothing more than a bad cold from the winter's snow. But when it grew worse to the point where he could not get out of bed even to use a chamber pot, I knew there was no hope left.

I tried everything to get him to eat, but he was either never hungry, or couldn't hold it down if he tried. He soon became frail and boney; you could count each rib he had even through his shirt.

I try to forget the night he died, though my memory is very cruel. I can still see him lying on the bed, unable to eat, unable to sleep. I left his room for a while to cook dinner, but returned quickly when I heard him cry out to me. I returned to find beads of sweat rolling down his face and into his bloodshot eyes. His breathing was very shallow and horse, and as I kneeled down beside him, he slowly reached for my hand with his skeletal one.

"Christine…" he sighed. "I feel that my time is very near…"

Tears grew in my eyes as I watched him cough into his other hand.

"Please remember… that I will never… leave you… I will always be with you even… if you cannot see me…" I nodded my head. "I have arranged with an old friend to be your guardian from now on… her name is Antoinette Giry… obey her like she is your own mother… don't give her too hard of a time, alright?" he chuckled, but it fell into a cough.

"I won't, Papa." I swallowed.

"Good… she is staying in the old brown house by the church… you know where that is?" I nodded once again. "…go there, after I am no longer here, and find her… alright?"

"Yes, Papa." I choked on a sob that was quickly irrupting inside of me.

"Aw, no… child, don't cry…" He said, caressing my cheek. "… everything is going to be alright… do you trust me?"

I leaned into his hand and sniffled my sobs back the best I could. "Yes…"

"Christine…" he whispered, causing me to look up into his big blue eyes. "…do you remember the story of the Angel of Music…?"

"Of course, Papa….I could never forget for as long as I live."

He smiled weakly. "Well then, I promise you, if the good Lord will allow it… that I will send you the Angel of Music just as soon as I enter heaven's gates… does that sound good to you?"

I nodded my head while letting tears roll down my cheeks. His color was quickly draining from his face, and his eyes were beginning to droop down.

"…I love you, Christine…" he whispered, as his last breath filled the room, and then the room went silent. That is, until I screamed…

"NO! PAPA!" I cried as his hand slipped off my cheek. "NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" I shook his shoulders and held my ear close to his heart to see if his heart was still beating… it wasn't. I slapped his cheeks and then tugged on his shirt with my tiny hands. "COME BACK, PAPA! I NEED YOU…" my body racked with sobs as I slowly sat upon his bed, held his dead body in my arms, and rocked him back and forth. "No…come back, Papa…" I sobbed. "Please… please come back…"

And soon, I fell asleep, him still in my arms.

That's the very moment I had dreamt of, which had woken me to stare at the guest bedroom's ceiling in Nadir's house. I tried not to cry, I honestly did. But that memory was a tough one not to cry about.

Soon enough, I had taken control over my cry's and sat up straight in the bed, not feeling the pain in my leg quite as much as the other days, which put a bit of happiness in my morning.

It looked to be just a little after dawn; the sun shimmering down on a cold March day. I stretched my arms high above my head which cause a squeak noise to occur in my throat, quickly making me blush. I was thankful I was alone at the moment.

I pulled the covers off of my lap and examined my leg, which was very disgusting to my eyes. From my calf up to my thigh was a nice stripe of blue and yellow bruises. The stitches seemed to be healing up the cut very nicely though, much to my satisfaction. I was very glad that I wasn't conscious when Nadir sewed me up.

After covering myself up, I looked down toward my feet and gasped. In front of me was a very large white box with a rose placed on the top. A rose with a black ribbon tied around its stem… I could only guess who it was from.

Quickly, feeling like a young child on Christmas morning, I jerked the box into my lap and put the beautiful red flower up to my nose, inhaling the sweet smell. Once I laid that down on the table beside me, I found that a note had been placed underneath the rose. It simply wrote this:

_Enjoy._

I flipped the lid off and, again, gasped at the sight. The first thing I pulled out of the box were two dresses, one light pink with simple embellishments, and the other a crimson red, slightly fancier than the other. They each had buttons down the front instead of back lacing, to make it easier on me to get it on without help, I supposed. I smiled; he was always one step ahead.

The next thing I pulled out was a long black ribbon so I could tie my hair up when desired, and a beautiful silver hair brush.

The last thing I pulled out made me giggle. Lying in the bottom of the box was a large book filled with many pieces of paper and on the cover of the book wrote "Christine's Art" in beautiful script, identical to the script on the note that had been placed on the box. Beside the book were three art pencils neatly sharpened and ready to use.

I couldn't even fathom that Erik went through so much trouble to get me all of these wonderful gifts! Just one dress would have been more than I could ever ask for, but another dress, hair accessories, and sketching utensils in addition (though, I knew the sketch diary and pencils were merely for his own amusement; we both knew there was no hope)… it warmed my heart to know he wanted my stay to be as enjoyable as it could be.

He was beginning to change; I could see that clearly. His manners had changed drastically from the moment we vowed just to have fun for the rest of the time we had stuck in Nadir's home. He seemed to be slightly happier; his face was softer instead of the unpleasant expression I had always known him to wear. He had opened up a bit more, talking to me about insignificant things that no one but us would really cared about, and from what I gathered, after all the years I had known him, he seemed _relaxed. _

But the best thing of all that I had thanked God for was that he didn't act like he was falling in love with me every second of the day. When he looked at me, it didn't feel that he was hypnotized by me; I wasn't uncomfortable by his stare anymore, for it had turned into a gaze, something lighter than a stare. Not as intense in any way at all, just as one friend would look at another. We were friends.

Actually, it was almost as if my Angel had returned in his eyes, instead of that insensitive, hateful, murdering phantom that no one enjoyed. On the contrary, I quite enjoyed this new change in Erik.

I just hoped that it would stay that way.

I think Nadir had been knocking at the door for some time, but I only heard when he warily called out my name. "Um… Mademoiselle? May I come in?"

"Oh my, yes!" he opened the door; looking a little skeptical as if I had still been asleep. "I'm terribly sorry, I was caught up in my own little world, I suppose."

He closed the door with his foot seeing as one hand held a tray with my breakfast on top and in the other hand was a cup of steaming liquid. I pushed my presents on the other side of the bed, reached out to take the heavy tray from his hands, and placed it in my lap. He set the cup on the side table and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"Nadir!" his head shot up quickly. "Did you know Erik bought me all of these gifts?"

He snorted with a slight smile. "Yes, I did in fact know that. Do you like the dresses?"

"Do I? They are gorgeous!" I sighed. "I cannot believe he bought me all this, though. It's too much for me; one dress would have been plenty."

"Oh he would not do with just one dress, I can assure that. He wants you to be happy."

I smiled, picking up the silver spoon on the tray and digging it into my bowl of oatmeal.

I gasped. "Did you add sugar to this, Nadir?" he nodded. "If you keep spoiling me like this, I will never fit into my dresses back home! Madame Giry will not be pleased if I weigh two-hundred pounds when returning." I laughed, but then thought about the opera house, last remembering it being consumed in flames… where would my ballet and singing carrier go if not at the Opera Garnier?

"My leg is feeling much better than it has in the last four days." I said, looking at a very exhausted Nadir… or was that annoyance?

"I'm very glad to hear that. A few more days and you possibly could start moving around a bit, with assistance, I must add."

"Oh yes…" I blushed, remembering the night before when he caught us "up and about."

There was an awkward silence before he sighed and stood up from the chair. "Very well, if there is anything you need, just let me know."

"Thank you."

When he opened the door, there stood Erik, looking as if he were just about to knock. He thought it would be funny to stand in Nadir's way for a few moments. Erik was a good head taller than Nadir, I noted. I don't think I ever realized how tall Erik really was. Anyways, Nadir said a few words under his breath and pushed Erik out of his way, of course, Erik _let_ him push him out of the way. Though he looked very thin, Erik could surprise you with how strong he really was.

Once Nadir was out of the room Erik closed the door. "He's been such a crabby man this morning."

But I had no time to respond, for there were far more important things we had to discuss.

"Erik, the dresses are gorgeous." I smiled, caressing the fabric of one of them.

He pulled his eyebrows together and took a seat in the chair. "I have no clue as to what you are talking about, but I'm glad you will finally be able to get out of that damn wedding dress. It can't be comfortable."

"I know it is from you."

"You can prove nothing."

I sighed. "Who else would tie a black ribbon around the stem of the rose?"

He studied me for a second with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands on his chin. He almost looked ten years younger in that position. "Well yes, that possibly could have been me… but what makes you think that it wasn't Nadir who bought these lovely, extravagant gifts that are completely too tasteful for his non tasteful taste, and I, being the kind man I am, just placed a rose on the top for decoration."

"Touché… well if you insist on taking none of the credit—"

"Except for the rose."

I smiled. "Except for the rose… then I will have to just thank Nadir later." I giggled, but then my face turned serious once more. I wanted him to know I was really grateful for the presents, though he insisted on playing this silly game with me. "Thank you."

Even though his hand was covering half of his lips, I could tell from his eyes that he was smiling. "You're welcome."

We talked for a few moments about my suspicions; I told him I felt that I was annoying Nadir to no end. Erik simply laughed and said he needed to learn the art of kindness, obviously no seriousness in his voice whatsoever.

But after a few minutes, I shooed him off so I could try on one of my dresses. Of course, I picked the crimson beauty, for I suddenly felt like a little girl wanting to feel like a princess. The buttons down the front were a godsend, the bodice was formfitting with a sweetheart neckline, the buttons were black, and the sleeves were short with lace. Although it took me fifteen minutes to get into, in the end, I really did feel like a princess.

The next three days passed with ease, and also filled with more fun than I had had in a long while. When training at the opera house, whether for a ballet or an aria, never would I have time just to goof off. It was always work, work, and work. These few days with Erik, however, were nothing but entertaining.

We started off our day with a drawing lesson, which always ended pretty hopelessly. The first thing he had told me was that an artist could not just look at the whole inspiration in front of him, but rather each and every detail that made _up_ that inspiration. And don't get me wrong, that made perfect sense inside my mind… but when it was time for me to put my pencil to paper, my hand had a mind of its own.

I had figured Erik would end up getting angry with me, as he sometimes did in our singing lessons so many years before, but it was quite the opposite of that. He chuckled at my mistakes and inability to draw, flipped the page, and explained it to me again. It made me happy to know that he could be a pleasant teacher every once in a while.

Our other adventures consist of sneaking behind Nadir's back every once in a while and escaping to the music room, either when he was outside or in town. We were actually very successful in making it back to my room without him knowing a single thing that was going on. I would have done it with no one except Erik, for the fact that I saw he was smart enough to know how to maneuver me without the slightest pain or worsen of my injury. Nadir simply didn't trust him as much as I did.

The last time that we attempted it, on the other hand, was not as successful. Our art lesson had failed once again and Erik suggested that we go to relax with some music. He had said that Nadir had been in the yard for a while and probably wouldn't be in the house for some time, and when I agreed, he scooped me up in his arms and headed for the door.

Well, needless to say Nadir was on the other side of that door, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. The look in his eyes frightened me, and when I looked up at Erik, I think I saw a flash of fear in his own eyes. We quickly shut the door and returned to the bed and chair.

I woke up with the sunrise and sunk deep down into the covers on my bed. It was the seventh morning I had awakened in that bed and I couldn't believe it had only been a week from that one horrible night, the night I would never forget. It had felt like a century from the time when Erik, Raoul, and I were down in the cellars of the Opera, fighting for our own rights. Though it felt like such a long time, I could still see the event play in my mind very clearly.

The first five days had been good, the sixth night I was reminded of how much I missed Raoul in a dream and this seventh morning I was almost in tears. My poor, loving fiancé was probably worried sick because of my absence and how was I supposed to explain my disappearance? I had told him I only intended to bid Erik goodbye and how long he had waited for me to come out was beyond my knowledge, but I knew I would have a lot to explain when I returned in his arms.

_ Will he be mad at me?_ I thought, as I pulled the covers over my shoulders a little further. _What a rotten fiancé I am, disappearing without giving so much as a thought of my darling Raoul! He may have already given up on my returning. _How horrible that would be, to come home hoping for open arms and being welcomed with a good scolding and shaming. I just hoped that he could forgive me and understand… _if only he will understand. _

A knock appeared at my door, which made me sigh. I was in no mood for company at the moment, and if it had not been for how kind Nadir had been to me, I would have nicely asked him to go away. I sat up, still with the covers wrapped tightly around my body like a cocoon. "Yes, come in."

Nadir came walking in with a pleasant smile spread on his face, followed by an equally happy looking Erik. _Am I the only one in a foul mood this morning?_

"Hello mademoiselle, how are you feeling this morning?" Nadir asked, sitting down in that overused chair that I wished had disappeared for only one morning, if possible, so not to welcome anyone to stay too very long.

"Fine," I lied, "Just slightly cold."

"Ah, yes, the temperature has dropped down drastically in the last few days. I will fetch you another blanket in a moment."

I smiled the best I could and took the tray of breakfast that Erik handed to me. I was in no mood to eat.

It was awkward for a few minutes as they stayed quiet in the room and I force fed myself the apple pastry. Nadir was out in space somewhere, thinking deeply about something, and Erik was quietly staring out the window; his breath fogged a circle on the glass.

With my pastry gone and into my complaining stomach, Nadir sat the tray on the bedside table and asked for my permission to look at my leg. I approved sleepily and pushed the covers off my leg; it was becoming a daily routine.

I hadn't really paid attention to my leg the past days before, and when I looked down, I was very surprised at its improvement. However, it was still covered with bruises, but definitely not as many as before, and the cut was now becoming a nice gross looking scab. I scrunched my nose but was all right when Nadir said it was a good thing that it looked that way.

"Well, Christine… I have to say I thought you would be a bit more excited for this day to come."

As soon as Nadir had said that, it clicked inside my head that a week had passed sense the accident, therefore it was the first day I could test walking on my healing leg.

My mood was brightened slightly at that thought.

"Are you giving me permission?" I asked with a wide smile on my face. Oh how good it would feel to finally get out of the bed and stand on my own two feet!

"I am," He smiled, "but you have to allow us to help you. I'm afraid that after such a long time off those legs that they'll be very weak."

That was all I needed to hear.

I pushed the covers fully off my body and slowly moved my legs to dangle off the bed. Erik was in front of me in an instant and held both my hands as I built up the courage to stand. Honestly, I was scared to death.

I looked up at Erik, asking him with my eyes if this was a good idea. _"You can do this…"_ his voice whispered in my right ear, though he was standing a few feet away. I gasped.

It all happened so fast; my feet touched the floor, my hands tightened against Erik's, and I pushed myself up to stand. The next thing I knew, I was in Erik's arms and my head was on his chest. My legs had collapsed beneath me just as soon as I had put the least amount of pressure on them, and if not for Erik, I would have cracked my head open on the floor.

Erik pulled me up in his arms and sat me back down on the bed. "A little slower this time." He smiled.

I took in a deep breath and tried it once more. This time when I pushed myself up off the bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and both him and Nadir held my hand, making sure this time that I remained on my on my feet.

It wasn't too bad once I stood straight, more weight on my good leg, but when I stepped forward onto my bad leg, pain shot up all the way through my hip. I let out a small whimper and Erik's arm tightened around my waist. It was my hip that was hurting much, much more than my wound even thought about hurting. I took another step and the same pain tore through me once more.

"There is more pain in my hip than from the wound itself!" I said when I collapsed against Erik once more. There were already tears forming in my eyes. How stupid I felt! I wasn't even able to walk on my own two feet!

"You possibly could have injured that hip when hitting the rocks, but you are at least able to put some pressure on it even if only for a few steps." Nadir declared as I was carried back to the bed.

"Nothing too serious, I hope?" I sheepishly asked, trying not to cry. I felt like a child.

"I think that if you keep working on it, the pain will subside. You have to work your strength back up from lying around for a whole week."

"It takes time, Christine. You will get there." Erik said, sitting down beside me on the bed. He was trying to make me feel better, I know, but I still felt very helpless.

Nadir walked over to the closet on the far side of the room and pulled out a colorful quilt, lying on the end of the bed. "Here is some extra warmth. There is also a fireplace in the living room if you would like to sit by it for a while. I need to go into town for some groceries… I feel that a snowstorm is on its way, and I would hate for us to be stranded without any food." He chuckled making his way to the door. "Just take it a step at a time, Christine."

Once he was out the door, I slammed my face down in my hands. How badly I wanted to cry, but I felt stupid to cry about something so foolish. I just had to work on it, like they both said.

"Christine…" Erik whispered, wrapping the colorful quilt across my shoulders. I removed my hands from my face and looked up at his solemn appearance. "…what's troubling you?"

"I can't walk… it's frustrating!" And that was partly my reason for being upset. He wouldn't possibly understand my missing Raoul.

"Besides that… you weren't your normal, cheerful self this morning." He tapped a finger on my forehead. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

_Can you hear my thoughts, Erik? _I thought, testing to see if he had another secret talent I wasn't aware of. There was no way I was going to tell him how much I missed Raoul, for I could so much as speak his name and I knew Erik's whole manner would change in an instant. It was evident that he hated Raoul's guts for stealing my heart.

I cleared my throat and stared at the floor, wrapping the quilt a little tighter around my shoulders subconsciously. "It's nothing…its best if you don't ask."

It was silent for a moment, but then he put a finger beneath my chin and pulled my face to look at him. "I think I have a good idea what it is…"

"Then why do you ask?"

"Because I would like to know it's nothing worse than my suspicions."

"…and what are your suspicions?"

He sighed. "Well, I assume that you miss your boy terribly. It's been a full week that you've had to be without him, and I suspect that it's hard to stay away from someone you love for that long." I had to keep my mouth from gaping open; he spoke with no humor, no sarcasm, no hatred… only compassion and understanding. "But if you keep working on it, walking I mean, then I promise you that you'll be on your way home in no time, and back into your fiancé's arms." he smiled, removing his finger from my chin. "I'm sure he misses you just as much as you miss him."

I slowly scooted away from him, wide eyed and brow furrowed. "Where is the Erik I know and what did you do to him?"

He laughed, turning his gaze to the floor. "I am trying to improve him, actually."

For a few moments, we sat there in silence. I stared at him, he stared at the floor. I couldn't believe my ears when he spoke about Raoul in such a way; acting as if he had no hard feelings for my fiancé. Maybe my prayer had been answered, and he was finally learning to let go…

He suddenly stood and walked to tower over me. "Are you ready?" he asked, his hands finding mine.

"Am I ready for what?"

"We need to transfer to the living room for a while, your hands feel like icicles, and I think a visit to the fireplace wouldn't be such a bad idea for you."

"And you are going to make me walk." I supposed, pouting my bottom lip. He only chuckled and tugged on my hands, boosting me to stand, and of course, I obeyed.

With many stumbles and leaning against Erik's body, we made it to the fireplace and took a seat in the two wingback chairs. The heat of the flames felt so nice against my skin; I reached my "icicle" hands further toward the fire to warm them.

When I was finally defrosted, I leaned my head against the back of my chair and glanced over toward Erik. His eyelids were closed with his face turned toward the soft glow of the flames. His distorted cheek was facing me, but that didn't bother me one bit; the way the light hit him, he looked simply beautiful. Though, he would never believe that if I told him, but it was very much the truth. The more I studied his face, the more I realized the cruel stories Joseph Bouquet told were not very accurate. In my eyes, anyways… he did, in fact, have a nose, just the right side of the nose was a little less fortunate and smaller than the other, his skin was much like any other man's; it flushed red when he was embarrassed, but was not the color of "yellow parchment" as Joseph had said.

The only thing that Joseph was very accurate on was that he was, indeed, a murder. I was afraid to know how many men he had really killed in his life, but I knew somewhere inside Erik, it wasn't an evil thing. I had tried to fit a few pieces together over the last week, and the conclusion I came up with was that somewhere in his life, he had had it with the stares and the mocking, the jokes and the cruelty, and he found that the only way to stop the people from doing so would be to eliminate them. I had hope within my heart that he only did it out of protection to himself, but even so, it was no excuse.

I had thought him to be asleep after such a long silence, but soon I heard the lovely sound of Erik's voice humming an unknown melody softly to himself. His voice was probably the most wonderful sound that I had ever heard and will ever hear; it was soft…soothing…virtuous… anytime I hear his voice, I feel safe and secure. It had that purity as does a single violin playing through an empty auditorium. Its echo was reassuring…

I realized at that moment that when I returned home, I most likely would never hear that voice again. We would part ways and live our own lives, but I was certain that something would remind me of him, or his voice… and I would miss him terribly. If only he could stay my friend, we could occasionally spend time with each other and I could find him a woman, and the four of us could go out together for dinner. But I knew that was impossible… people were too self-centered and foolish to be able to look at his distorted face with love and he was, after all, a wanted felon. Oh how horrible that sounds…

Without realizing, I started humming along with him, harmonizing with his melody. My voice sounded weak and horse in comparison to his, which I wasn't surprised. I would never be that good.

Who knows how much time had passed with us quietly humming, both finding peace and comfort in one another. The only thing that interrupted us was the sound of the front door swinging wide open and then slamming shut. I looked over to the door, noticing Nadir with his hands full of groceries making his way to the kitchen.

"You two barely look alive, but out of the goodness of my heart, I will make you a nice hearty lunch." Nadir laughed. "It will be spicy, so be prepared."

I smiled, looking back at Erik. He _did_ look very tired, big dark circles hung under his eyes that I hadn't noticed before. But through his tiredness, he managed to smile.

"Erik, when was the last time you got some sleep?" I ask, leaning forward with my face in the palms of my hands.

He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes once more. "In truth, it has been years since I've actually _slept_… but if dozing off counts, a few nights ago." He heaved a sigh. "I don't mind, though. Sleeping is not one of my favorite things to do."

I frowned. "Why not?"

"If you only knew the nightmares that came with my sleep, you would understand." he moved around a little in the chair to make himself a bit more comfortable, eyes still closed.

I remembered when I was little, I would have terrible nightmares; probably not nearly as bad as Erik's… I had childish nightmares that would wake me with a start and frighten me when finding shadow's on the wall. They subsided after a while, only haunting me occasionally. I remembered when I was three, I ran into my father's room after a horrible nightmare, (the story of the nightmare escaping my mind at the moment.) He took me into the kitchen and sat me onto the table with a wide smile on his face. He whipped up the most delicious drink I had ever tasted in my life which made my nightmares instantly go away; I think he called it hot chocolate…_That's it!_

"Erik," his eyes opened to find me smiling, "I think I may have a solution to your problem. You see, my fa—"

Before I could finish, a harsh knock appeared at the door… Erik and I froze.

Just as soon as a confused Nadir walked over and opened the door, Erik had lifted me up in his arms and bolted to the nearest closet.

"Erik, who was—"

"Shhh..." He put a finger over my lips to silent me, and I obeyed without protest.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice rang out through the room outside the pitch black closet we were in. "Good afternoon Monsieur, I am Detective James Le Blanc. I am searching for a young woman who we believed has been kidnaped by a very dangerous man." Erik and I held our breath.

"This is Christine Daae. Have you seen her?"

"Oh my—" Erik put a hand over my mouth and subconsciously closed his grip on me a little tighter than my comfort, but I didn't complain.

* * *

**A/N: **Crickets**...yeah so I left you with a cliffhanger... mwa ha ha ha ha... :/ REVIEW! :) **


	6. Staying Silent

**A/N: First things first... I am so unbelievably, horribly, can't-believe-I-did-this, truly sorry. I know, it has been like two and a half years since I have posted a chapter and I feel horrible about it and I'm completely afraid I have lost all of my fans. Did you know that life sometimes gets really extremely crazy and throws you off your feet and you land flat on your butt? Yeah, life has been quite crazy for me. I also have written this chapter... 5 billion times... and this is finally the one that I ACTUALLY LIKED. I seriously have about 10 documents in my computer with names such as "Chapter 6", "The Real Chapter 6", "Let's try it again" and so on. So if you are still out there and you are reading this right now, THANK YOU for clicking on this story again. I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. *Awkward apologetic hugs***

**Christine's POV**

_Will Nadir lie for us...? _That was the first horrifying thought that came to mind. _Are we worthy enough in his eyes to lie to all authorities, setting his own life in danger, and only for our protection? Had we in the last few days become enough of a nuisance to him that he should quietly show the detective our hiding place? _

All the feeling in my body was converting to an awful numb tingle. I knew that lying was never the answer; I had learned that early in my childhood. I knew that sooner or later the truth would be revealed and all attempts at trying to cover it up were impossible... but I prayed to God that he would forgive us all for this lie that I _hoped_ Nadir would speak.

"My, my! She is a beauty, is she not?" Had I not been so frightened I might have blushed at the vast compliment that the Persian had secretly given me. There was a pause... "But I am truly sorry to say that I have not seen this woman before."

I sighed heavily against Erik's hand that was covering my mouth. I did feel a great amount of weight release from my shoulders as I knew for certain Nadir would not betray us, but that meant nothing as to whether the detective would believe the face that told the lie. If only I could see Nadir's face! Was he squirming from the left to right in anxiety, or was he straight as a marble statue? Did he blink more often that normal? Were his hands shaking at his side? If I only could know the answers, I would have been able to tell if we were in danger.

"Well, I am sorry to hear that also." The detective sighed. "We have had several reports from a few bystanders that claim they saw a couple riding a black mare along this pathway. They explain that the woman was wearing a long white dress, which was what Mademoiselle Daae was last seen wearing according to the Vicomte de Chagny. Others profess that they saw a man dragging a helpless woman across the cobblestone."

I shivered at the thought that people had actually seen us on our journey... it caused our small amount of hope to shatter into nothingness.

"The wide imaginations of some people..." Erik's mocked.. I noticed then that his hand was no longer over my mouth.

Turning my eyes to Erik, I gazed in wonder. His expression held darkness... it was coarse and hard, staring off into the air with his jaw sealed tight and his brows glued closely together. His eyes burned in anger... seemingly _glowing _in the darkness. I wanted the look gone from his face.

My fingers found his deformed cheek through the darkness and brushed the unnatural skin kindly. He was healthier. His body was no longer a skeleton; it was actually more than skin and bone…it must have been Nadir's delicious food and my constant nagging at him to eat.

He had his full attention on me now, gazing into my eyes with a completely different look than what he had had before. When his eyes met mine, they melted into emerald green jewels that shone far brighter than the sun placed high in the sky.

Giving him a nasty look, I said, "I still have bruises from that cobblestone you dragged me on..."

He chuckled quietly at my comment. I smiled, for I found I was distracting him. Now if only I could have distracted myself.

I gathered a few healthy strands of hair and placed them behind his ear, and while I traced the marred skin over his eyebrow, I realized who I could possibility be losing in mere moments; my eyes filled with tears. _Is this honestly...and truly the last time I will see my angel, and be held in his arms? Will I never hear his beautiful voice soar through the air... as if it is the very oxygen that I breathe? Am I to merely go on with my life as if he never existed? Or even worse...stand at his grave and say to myself "Oh well! There was nothing I could do!" No...No. This cannot be the end. _I started gasping for the air that would not reach my lungs. _Oh Father in Heaven! If there is ANY way possible to spare this man's life today, then I beg you not to hesitate! For living in a world without my Angel...without my...Erik..._

By now, tears were soaking my cheeks like a rain shower from a spring storm. My Angel quickly took notice at the first tear that slid down my cheek and started rocking me back and forth shushing me with care like an infant.

"It is going to be alright..." he whispered so close to me.

"...Erik if they find you..." I murmured, grasping his face firmly in my hands. "...promise me..." I choked. "...promise me that you will run...promise me that you will be alright..." his eyebrows pulled together in pain. After seconds of agonizing and horrible silence, I gripped my hands tighter and hissed through tears "Promise me!"

He swallowed. "I promise."

I nodded as I practically slammed my head against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his neck, holding on tightly. He stepped away from the door and leaned against the back wall, sinking to the ground with me in his arms. I sobbed as he started humming my lullaby softly, his cheek resting against mine. It was such a tenderhearted moment that neither of us could enjoy. We both were drowning in our own miserable thoughts.

My stomach twisted and contracted as I choked.

"No, please stop crying..." he begged. "I've done it before; you know I've escaped... trouble."

He meant _death. _He had escaped _death_ before.

"Shh..." he whispered. I took a deep breath in, picked my head up off his shoulder, and stared blankly at his face. He leaned in, placing his forehead softly against mine and closed his eye. Mine shut as well.

And we waited.

_Footsteps_ in pairs of two marched against the hardwood floor, searching the house for what it would truly find. They will break my Angel's song and his wings will wilt. His halo will dim in silent defeat, and I will follow him, screaming. Screaming until Nadir pulls me away. And still I will scream when he is out of my view. I will scream until it ruins my voice, for what good is a voice without a song...?

Silence...

The door squeaked open...

Erik's arms enclosed me, pulling me near and immediately I accepted his embrace, with full intentions to never let go.

I heard someone clear their throat awkwardly. "...he's gone."

We slowly both turned our heads toward the door, and there stood the Persian alone... I sighed loudly and thanked the Lord for saving my Angel's life.

Tears rose in my eyes once again, but I wore a smile on my face. I looked Nadir in the eyes and whispered "_Thank you._"

He nodded his head and silently walked away from the door.

I lifted my head slightly to look at Erik, and he stared back at me with the same grateful, yet shaken look. I chuckled and said, "Well, that was just a bit _too close_."

He agreed.

Securing his grip on me, Erik stood to his feet. "Would you like to join me?"

I sniffled. "And where are we going, _Monsieur_?"

"Well the music room, of course." he sighed. "Music can always take your mind away... help you to find happiness."

"Except _your_ music, which can help your eyes find tears."

He rolled his eyes playfully, lowering my feet carefully to the floor. I groaned. "Maybe I changed my mind about wanting to walk...from now on will you just carry me everywhere?"

He answered with a chuckle and wrapped an arm around my waist just until I got my balance, and then he carefully let go, grasping my hands in his.

I looked helpless as he lead me through the house, and with each mumble and whimper, I felt more and more like a fool. Step by step, Erik never took his eyes off of me. He watched my expressions and when I winced, he winced. When I would gasp, his face would scrunch up in agony. Once he whispered "_I'm sorry_" quietly to me. It was almost like he could feel my pain.

When my feet stepped into the music room, I sighed in relief. Erik guided me to the bench, situating a pillow in the spot where I was going to sit and lowered me down.

I looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"You know," Erik started, obviously trying to cheer me up. "We have not had a singing lesson in quite some time."

I smiled and shook my head, still looking at the ground. "And I have not had much practice...I'll probably sound horrible—"

"You have never sounded horrible and you will not start today." He scolded lightly.

I sat myself up straight and we started warm-ups. There were a few warm-ups that never failed to make me giggle. They sounded ridiculous with the "_me, me, me's" _and the "_ma, ma, ma's". _I got tickled for a moment, but then covered my hand over my mouth before the chuckle could erupt.

Erik's fingers paused on the piano and I winced, knowing he was going to get angry; that was his normal reaction when I would interrupt his music...

"And _what _is so funny?" he asked. I was afraid to look up, to meet his eyes, but when I did, my own expression fell to an astonished gaze. His mouth was curled up on both corners with a smile, and his eyes were shining bright.

It took me a moment to find my voice. "...nothing."

I was no where getting used to this new _Erik_. This calm, compassionate Erik that did not raise his voice when I disrupted our lessons, or wince when my voice cracked on a note. Instead, he would just fix my posture and tell me to try again... all the while, wearing a smile on his face! It was remarkable...and frightening.

Sometimes his music was so beautiful that I would catch myself forgetting words to songs I knew by heart. I closed my eyes a few times unknowingly, letting the song fill my soul with its hopeful melody. But at last I opened my eyes and watched his fingers move swiftly over the keys.

"You make it seem so...easy." I sighed.

His fingers stopped, the corners of his mouth rose as he jumped up from the bench and stood behind me. He bent down and captured both my hands that were resting beside me on the bench and placed them on the ivory keys lightly. He kept his hands in line with mine; thumb against thumb, pinky against pinky. "This..." he paused, putting light pressure on my left hand's thumb, "...is middle C. That is important to remember."

"Middle C..." I repeated in a mumble. "...alright."

I felt his breath caress my hair in a chuckle. "Alright, I'll show you the order that the keys are in, though you have probably gathered most of this information from singing." He pressed each finger down as he spoke a letter in which the key was assigned. "C...D...E..." I smiled as I watched how patient he was being at such a slow pace. "...F, G...A and B. That is where it stops and repeats itself."

I nodded and paid close attention as he guided my hands, showing me different chords. He would ask me to repeat what he had shown me and sometimes I would fail, but he would only laugh and show it to me again. I eventually retained it and was able to play what I had learned with only minor mistakes. He slid his hands off of mine and started clapping, sitting in his place beside me once more. "Mademoiselle, I think you are ready to compose a beautiful song."

I giggled and nudged my shoulder into him at his joke. "Of course, I do after all have the best teacher in the entire world." I sighed. "I will be sure to remember you when I become famous and acquire quite a large head."

It was his turn to nudge my arm with his elbow. I let out a fake gasp, holding a hand against my arm as if he had really injured me, and he whirled around so quickly with wild wide eyes as if a bruise was already forming on my skin.

"Christine! I am so s—"

"Sorry? Yes! You should be sorry, Erik!" I yelled dramatically, hiding the giggle in the back of my throat. Yes, it was a pretty rotten thing of me to do.

"Please let me see it..." he reached to my arm, but I jerked away, taking the jest too far. "Christine...ugh! Dammit... I am so sorry—"

"Shh..." I placed a finger on his lips and batted my eyelashes innocently. "I was only jesting." I giggled as an angry expression plastered on his face while he bit the inside of his cheek, as if to hold back the curses. "I just wanted to see that gorgeous look on your face." I ran a finger down his cheek and poked the part that was being bit. "It is very attractive on you, Erik."

He growled and stood up, stomping out of the room.

"Erik!" I screamed. "Come BACK!" The door slammed shut.

I was almost positive he could take a joke.

While I waited for his return, I decided to trace the smooth keys on the piano, occasionally pressing a key or two. I experimented with one of the golden pedals at my feet and practiced a few chords he had shown me. I practiced for several minutes and actually got some sort of melody started, but when Erik never showed up, I grew bored.

I also grew brave. Perhaps stupid may be a better word... I decided to place both hands on the piano and lifted myself off the bench to almost a standing position. I'm not sure what I thought I could accomplish, for if I _had_ succeeded at standing, it doesn't mean I could have walked by myself without anything to brace me or catch me when I would fall.

Thankfully, before I even had time to think about how I could catch myself as my legs gave out, two arms wrapped themselves around my waist, catching me.

"Are you _trying_ to prolong this injury?" Erik growled, lowering my body back on the bench.

"Well I was...bored. I did not want to spend the rest of the day on this bench!" I said a bit sharper than intended. I sighed. "I'm sorry, Erik... I shouldn't have fooled you so... it was quite rude of me." I dropped my head in shame.

He stood in front of me, placed his hands on his knees, and leaned over face to face with me. And when his finger lifted my head he whispered, "That _jest_ was by far the worst acting you have ever done." My mouth dropped open as he chuckled and straightened back up, sticking his tongue out in a very childish manner.

We both heard Nadir yell from the other room, declaring that our meal was ready. And Erik, being the wonderful friend he was, lifted me into a cradle and carried me out of the music room.

We found our way to the small and cozy dining room, which was filled with afternoon light. Erik placed me in a chair and took the seat across from me. Nadir placed our dishes in front of us and poured tea into pretty little teacups. I said my thanks as he took a seat, adjusting his napkins and silverware.

Several minutes had passed with silence and the sound of forks and spoons hitting the plates, dipping into the spicy Persian cuisine, which was delicious. I would often look up to find Erik eating more than I had seen him eat in the past week, and that made me happy. You could tell his hair had started to grow back in spots that had once been bald, and I blame that on the good eating.

"Alright, I know that this is the subject that no one around this table wants to talk about," Nadir started, wiping his mouth lightly with his napkin. "But I think there are a few things that need to be said and discussed."

"Ugh, Daroga...if you are looking for words of appreciation, then I _thank you_." Erik said sarcastically.

"Erik, this has nothing to do with wanting acknowledgments for saving your backside. We need to think about—"

"Christine," Erik placed a hand over mine that was reaching for my tea. I looked up and paused. "You probably should thank him also, or he is liable to get angry..."

Nadir groaned, cursing under his breath as I giggled. "Thank you again, Nadir."

"See! There you are. There should be nothing more you ask for." Erik played, taking a bite from his plate.

"Erik I am so close to taking this knife," Nadir held up the jagged blade, "and slicing your hand off."

"You wouldn't have the courage."

"Why? Because I have seen how dangerous you are?"

"No, because you are a—"

"You think I'm intimidated by you because I know how many torture chambers you've—OUCH! Allah..." By the way the tea cups rattled, it seemed that Erik had kicked him from under the table. Erik's eyes were wide in anger, starring daggers at the Persian man, but when they flashed back to me, they were perfectly normal. I raised an eyebrow.

"As I was _saying..._" Nadir cocked his head and gave Erik a look. "...they have obviously seen the two of you traveling this way, and thankfully you were not caught this time around. But that does not mean that they will not be scanning this area. That means no more escapades to the town stores, Erik. I don't care how excellent you think you are at hiding...there is one of you and very many more of them."

Erik grumbled, but nodded in agreement. He knew as well as I that Nadir was correct in what he was saying.

"And another thing to think about, Mademoiselle Christine, is what you are to explain to very many people when you return."

And I had not a clue.

I spent the rest of that afternoon and late that night wondering and thinking. I even dreamt of a speech to give to whomever when I returned, but the moment I woke, it was gone. I tried to find the right words to fit in the right places, I even wrote parts of it down in my notebook of which was filled with my atrocious drawings.

I knew one thing I had already agreed on with myself was that I would never tell of Erik's whereabouts, whether I knew them or not. I would stay silent! I would hide him away from death as much as I could, and keep a shadow of protection over him as much as my part would allow.

After hours and hours, pondering and writing, it was six in the morning and my eyes were begging to close, begging for me to sleep. But I couldn't... I could not waste a moment until I had a full speech prepared.

It was cold. The window had frost on its edges, and the wind was howling loudly. I sat up and reached for the extra blanket that was on the end of the bed, but I couldn't quite reach it without my leg cramping a bit. I reached a few more times and then started trying to move it around with my good leg. My attempt at moving it closer continued to fail and suddenly, without me being able to do anything about it, it fell off the edge of the bed.

I made a nasty face and peeked over the bed. Yes, it was there, piled up at the farthest corner of the bed from me. I knew I would get in to trouble if I tried to get it myself. _Maybe it is not that cold..._

And as if nature itself was mocking me, it dropped a few more degrees.

I had the covers that were already on my bed all the way up to my nose, wrapped as tightly as possible. _Nadir did mention something about a snow storm... _

"Erik..." I whispered, hoping he would hear me. "...Erik..."

The doorknob slowly turned and he poked his head inside. When he noticed how I was gripping the blanket for dear life, he chuckled softly.

I pulled my arm out of the cover long enough to point to the floor where my blanket lie. "Will you please hand me my blanket?" I shivered. "...it fell."

He smiled and stepped into the room, bending down to get the multicolored cover.


End file.
